draliman on life

It’s Monday and that means it’s time for Barbara Beacham’s Mondays Finish the Story. We get a photo prompt and an opening sentence plus 150 words to complete the story. For this week’s other stories, click on the blue froggy.

The supplied sentence is in bold in my story.

Copyright Barbara W. Beacham

The neighbours were not happy about my choice of yard art.

First they tries light hearted banter.

“Blimey, mate, what’s the ‘ell’s that? Not keeping it, are you?”

After a week they’re done mincin’ words.

“Listen, chum, I’m not meaning to be rude, but that’s an eyesore, ya know? You gonna move it or what?”

I ignore them, miserable gits.

Then it gets serious. I comes out in the mornin’ and find the Native American covered wi’ paint. Makes him look somehow diseased.

I says nothing. They says nothing. They know I know it were them.

Next day, someone’s shot holes in the bison with an air rifle. The day after that, the Native American has both his arms shot off. These neighbours come over from England couple a’ years previous. Settlers, you might say. Suddenly I got a diseased-looking Native American and a shot bison.

Funny how history repeats. Maybe tomorrow I’ll complete the cycle and scalp the bastards.