A Donkey To Ride
Walt, do you know where I can get a donkey?
Supper was over and that was the question George asked his neighbour from two doors down, “Walt, do you know where I can get a donkey?”.
It was a different and somewhat humourous end to supper.
George’s wife was to have an operation in the hospital the next day.
It was a minor operation but still it was an operation and sometimes one can never be sure how operations will turn out.
George had two children- a girl and a boy.
Walt’s wife Mary thought it might be a good idea to invite the three over for supper the night before the operation.
Walt agreed.
Walt and Mary had three daughters of their own- Margaret, Barbara and Judy.
The three were friends with George’s two children.
George accepted the invitation to dinner.
And brought over his two children.
It was a delicious supper.
Roast beef, mashed potatoes, carrots, peas, gravy.
All present at the supper enjoyed the meal immensely.
The supper was over and dessert was about to be served.
Suddenly George cleared his throat in a rather ominous fashion.
All eyes turned to George.
“Walt,…” George paused and it sounded like he was going to say something of the upmost significance and importance.
He paused.
And all those present held their breath.
If George’s wife had been there, she’d have labelled the pause “the undramatic pause”.
For George’s wife had had some training in the dramatic arts and often mentioned how on stage actors and actresses would often pause in the middle of a sentence or a monologue to give what they were about to say next even more dramatic impart.
Not so with her husband George.
He would often pause (and a fairly long pause at that) before getting on with the rest of his sentence.
George’s wife labelled such pauses “the undramatic pause”.
For the next part of the sentence usually conveyed no dramatic impart whatsoever.
Although sometimes what he said next often had a comedic effect when juxtaposed with the previous statement before his pause.
Or the previous statement before the pause was comedic in itself.
As on one occasion, George and his wife were talking with a family friend about Canadian plains buffalo and George remarked, “Well A.Y. Jackson (a well-known Canadian painter) painted one from the rear end…. (incredibly long pause) … of a train.”
It sounded first before the pause that A.Y. Jackson had painted a buffalo’s rear end.
After the pause, it had become apparent that A.Y. Jackson had sat at the back car of a stopped train and painted a picture of a buffalo while the train sat there.
Getting back to this “undramatic pause”:
“Walt (in ominous tones)…. (incredibly long pause)… do you know where I can get a donkey?”.
The statement sent Walt and all those present at the dinner table into huge gales of laughter.
When Walt had finished laughing (which was some 5 minutes later), he asked, “What do you need a donkey for, George?”.
George replied, “Well a fellow teacher on staff owns an acreage and she thought it might be nice to have a donkey on the acreage.”
Had his son been an adult when his father had asked this question, “Do you know where I can get a donkey?”, he might have replied with his usual acerbic wit, “You can probably find one in the Prime Minister’s office.”
The question “Walt… do you know where I can get a donkey?” became a topic of conversation for years to come afterwards.
And George’s wife would often mention how on the night before her operation, her husband was at a next door neighbour’s house asking where he could get a donkey.
One of the places where George could find a donkey… or maybe two… or three.
-A short story written by Christopher
Monday May 31st 2021.
Jack O’ Hare: A Day Well Spent
He was the famous bunny called Jack O’ Hare
He saw the day was clear, sunny and quite fair
So he hopped here, he hopped there
He hopped around everywhere.
He hopped to the cabbage patch
Left there without a scratch
Even though the guard dog leapt into action
Jack fled in time by just a fraction.
He went to the carrot garden
And shrugged, “I beg your pardon?”
When he was chased away by Mrs. Jones
Who stopped to take Selfies on her cell phones.
He then went to the valley of green peas
And avoided some giant on his knees
He ate to his heart’s content
And thought this day heaven sent.
-A Jack O’ Hare poem
written by Christopher
Sunday May 30th
2021.
Meili and The Immortal Fox
Meili’s mother had vanished when she was young.
One day they were walking through the woods when a fierce storm came up.
Meili’s mother Niang had called out to the heavens for protection for her daughter.
The storm ceased but Meili’s mother had gone.
Although Meili did see a small fox disappear in the direction of a shrine in the woods.
Today was the day Meili was to be presented at the Imperial court.
How Meili wished her mother was here to help prepare her for her presentation at court.
As Meili sat in her bedroom wishing that, a small fox entered the room.
The fox went and stood by Meili.
A mist rose and became Meili’s mother Niang.
Niang helped Meili dress and then the crowning touch was when Niang put her blue sapphire broach in Meili’s hair.
It was then Meili realized that her mother Niang was truly a goddess.
Huxian Niangniang.
Fox Immortal Lady.
-A short story
written by Christopher
Saturday May 29th
2020.
Dashwood Forrest Visits The Cornish Coast
Dashwood Forrest the owner and curator of the Dashwood Forrest Art Gallery in London decided to spend a few days away from London.
He decided to visit the coast of Cornwall and checked into a comfortable Bed and Breakfast in a small village on the Cornish coast.
He had heard on the radio in his room that a ferocious storm was approaching the coast.
Instead of being frightened by it, Forrest was excited about the idea of watching a storm on the Cornish coast.
It brought back those old stories of pirates and cutthroats and shipwrecks and ghosts that he had heard about the Cornish coast as a child.
He put on his heavy rainjacket and headed down to the cliff near the village to watch the storm unfold.
As he sat on the edge of the cliff, Forrest watched the tempest begin.
Storm clouds turned from gray to fierce black.
The waves churned and roared with all the fearsome turbulence the angry sea had to offer.
A streak of lightning came down seeking to pierce and slice the waves while thunder roared its approval.
Forrest thought he heard a voice cry out, “It’s a long way from the Cape of Good Hope to the coast of Cornwall.”
Strange, Forrest thought.
And then he looked and saw that infamous ghost ship The Flying Dutchman being tossed to and fro through the combatting waves while an eerie green ghostly light surrounded the ship and its torn masts.
The ship crashed and was torn apart on the jagged rocks under the cliff below.
Bodies of men appeared on the beach.
Bodies that quickly became skeletons.
And then turned to dust.
The broken wood of the ship seemed to vanish among the sea foam that washed up on to the beach.
Forrest sat there petrified and staring in disbelief at what he saw.
Meanwhile in London, Dashwood Forrest’s good friend Sherrielock Holmes was looking after the gallery for him.
British MP Renfield R. Renfield entered the gallery.
“Where’s Dashwood?” Renfeld asked.
“He’s taking a well deserved vacation,” Sherrielock answered, “Down to the Cornish coast.”
“Good for him,” Renfield nodded, “So any new items in the gallery?”.
“In fact, a new parcel came in this evening,” Sherrielock replied, “Containing a most magnificent and unusual painting. I’ve already had it unpacked and put on the wall over there.”
Renfield went over to look at the painting.
“I have the feeling,” Renfield remarked, “that Dashwood will be very surprised when he sees this.”
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday May 28th
2021.
Arthur Meets Guinevere
Arthur king of the Britons had recently defeated the Anglo-Saxons in battle.
Under his peace terms, the Anglo-Saxons could continue to live in Britain but as peaceful citizens no longer prone to pillaging and plundering (or what today’s mainstream media would label “peaceful protests”).
During this time Arthur’s advisor Merlin found himself imprisoned in an oak tree as a result of a spell cast by the enchantress Vivian Nimue the Lady of The Lake.
When Merlin discovered that he had been imprisoned in the oak tree by Vivian, his notable words were, “I hate it when this happens.”
Without an advisor, Arthur wondered who he should turn to for advice.
He wondered if, now having defeated the Anglo-Saxons and now reigning over a peaceful kingdom, he should now marry.
Arthur decided to go to his older foster brother Sir Kay for advice.
Sir Kay was sitting there imbibing several glasses of mead when Arthur found him.
“Kay,” said Arthur, “I think I should marry. What do you think?”.
“I think that’s an excellent idea, Arthur,” Kay hiccoughed before passing out.
When Arthur went to bed that night, he was told by a voice that he should walk to the top of the hill overlooking Camelot the next morning and there he would meet his bride.
The next morning Arthur walked in the direction of the hill.
It just so happened that Guinevere the daughter of King Leodegrance of Cornouaille in Breton happened to be visiting Arthur’s kingdom and by chance happened to be walking on the hill that morning.
And thus it was that Arthur encountered Guinevere on that hill.
It was a magic moment as golden rays pierced through the clouds and a dove rose in the sky to bless their meeting.
A meeting that marked the beginning of the magic of Camelot and all that city stood for.
Of course someday all that magic would unravel with the arrival of a French knight called Lancelot at King Arthur’s court but that is another story.
-A short story written by Christopher
Thursday May 27th 2021.
Alfred The Great Receives A Visit From Cana Cludhmor
Alfred the Great Receives A Visit From Cana Cludhmor
Alfred the Great (848/49-26th October 899) was king of the West Saxons from 871 to 886 and then king of all the Anglo-Saxons from 886 to 899.
He was the youngest son of King Aethelwulf (reigned 839-858) who died when Alfred was young.
Alfred’s three older brothers Aethelbald, Aethulberht and Aethulred all reigned before him.
When his last older brother Aethulred died in April 871, the kingdoms of the Anglo-Saxons were under siege by the Vikings.
While Alfred was busy with the burial ceremonies for his brother, the Danes defeated the Anglo-Saxons at an unknown spot in Alfred’s absence.
Alfred then went on to meet the Danes at the Battle of Wilton in May 871.
He was defeated smashing any remaining hope that Alfred could drive away the invaders from his kingdom.
Alfred was instead forced to make peace with them and pay them tribute.
When the young Alfred returned to his castle shortly after the battle and had gone to bed falling into a deep sleep, he was awakened by the sound of a harp playing.
Alfred looked up and noticed a beautiful woman standing there playing the harp.
“Who are you?” Alfred asked as his loyal, faithful and ever alert (?) watch dog continued to sleep on the rug besides his bed.
“I am Cana Cludhmor the inventor of the harp,” the woman answered.
“You sound Irish?” Alfred noted.
“Indeed,” the woman nodded, “The Irish venerate me as their goddess of music, inspiration and dreams.”
“What do you want?” Alfred asked.
“Be not discouraged by your recent defeat by the Vikings,” Cana Cludhmor said, “For the next time you are awakened by the playing of my harp again, note you shall achieve victory against the Danes.”
Seven years later in May 878 Alfred was awakened by Cana Cludhmor’s harp playing and went on to defeat the Vikings at the Battle of Edington (also known as the Battle of Ethandun).
One of the terms of the Danish surrender was that Guthrum the leader of the Danish Great Heathen Army convert to Christianity.
Three weeks later Guthrum and 29 of his chief men were baptised at Alfred’s court with Alfred becoming Guthrum’s godfather.
Guthrum took the baptismal name of Aethelstan.
Under his baptismal name of Aethelstan, he ruled as king of East Anglia from 879 to 890.
And thus with the playing of an Irish Celtic harp, Alfred the Great defeated the Vikings.
-A short story written by Christopher
Thursday May 26th 2021.
Orson Welles On The Orient Express
The ghost of Orson Welles sat in a comfortable arm chair in the living room of the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set’s colossal London mansion.
He was sipping a spectral glass of spectral red wine.
He was reflecting on a dream he had as a young mortal man where he was contemplating directing a spy film set on the Orient Express.
Agatha Christie had published a Hercule Poirot novel called Murder On The Orient Express back in 1934.
The spy film set aboard the Orient Express that Welles was planning to make would have been done 20 years before Sean Connery’s 1963 James Bond film From Russia With Love part of which was set aboard the Orient Express.
However Welles’ idea for the film was rejected by film studio heads.
When Welles had the dream that became the basis for the proposed film, he dreamed he was back in the mid-1930s.
Soviet Stalinist agents had stolen the Spear of Longinus (the spear said to have pierced the side of Christ as recorded in the New Testament) from the Hofburg Palace Museum in Vienna, Austria.
They were now riding the Orient Express to Istanbul where they would then board a ship from Istanbul to Odessa.
And then from Odessa the Soviet Stalinist agents would head to Moscow and then to Stalin.
However Nazi spies were also on the trail of the Soviet agents as Hitler too desired to possess the Spear of Longinus for world conquest.
Britain and France had likewise sent their best agents to recapture the Spear of Longinus.
Welles played the British agent Sir Cyril Bellerophon.
He was to rendezvous with France’s top agent aboard the Orient Express.
All Welles’ Bellerophon knew was that the French agent’s initials were ML.
As Welles’ character of Sir Cyril Bellerophon sat in the empty dining car (as it was currently neither breakfast, lunch or dinnertime aboard the train), a beautiful woman entered the Orient Express dining car and approached him.
She walked up to Welles’ Bellerophon and said, “Bonjour Monsieur. Je suis Monique Labelle.”
Welles bowed and said, “Bonjour Mademoiselle. Je suis Sir Cyril Bellerophon.”
It had occurred to Welles that Monique LaBelle (whose intials were ML) was the French agent.
That turned out to be the case.
Welles thought it was a shame he woke up from the dream and had no idea how the whole scenario would end.
Still he had a chance to kiss Monique Labelle before he woke up.
And that Welles’ ghost reflected as he lit himself a spectral cigar was the important thing.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday May 25th
2021
Cavorting With The Three Musketeers On A Wet and Rainy Evening
A poster from the 2011 film version of The Three Musketeers
Raining all day
But I still feel like going
For an evening walk
I open the door
And step outside
It’s not only very cold
And very wet
But also very windy
I feel like I’m splashed by ocean waves
With no ocean present
I step back inside
Reluctantly I turn on the TV
And I’m reminded of a line
Spoken by the arch villain
John Doe
In the ’90s TV series
Lois and Clark:
The New Adventures of Superman
“Do you know what the future is,
Lois? Clark?
The future is 200 TV channels
And still nothing on.”
More prescient words
were never spoken
on a TV episode.
There is one channel
That shows movies
On weeknights
But mostly films
About smashing up cars
Blowing up cars
Blowing up buildings
Or blowing up space ships
I usually turn the channel off
About 2 minutes in
And think to myself,
“Too bad Vin Diesel
wouldn’t be struck and killed
by a diesel van.”
But tonight I turn on that channel
And it’s The Three Musketeers
2011 film version
Which I haven’t seen
2 and 1/2 hours of enjoyable entertainment
I sit back and recount my first encounter
with The Three Musketeers
A Classics Illustrated Comic Book
Back in elementary school
Alexandre Dumas’ novel itself
In paperback
A gift from my parents
A couple of birthdays later
Later as a film buff
I’ve encountered various versions
Of The Three Musketeers
1930s version
1940s version
Then ’50s, ’60s, ’70s, ’80s and ’90s
And now the 2011 version
It all takes me back to reading that comic book
For the first time
And dreaming of being a swashbuckling musketeer
Outwitting Cardinal Richelieu
and outfoxing Milady de Winter
Being with D’Artagnan and the Three Musketeers
Aramis, Athos and Porthos
is like being with old friends
And what better way to spend
A wet, cold and rainy evening
Than indoors with old friends.
-A poem written by Christopher
Monday May 24th 2021
Amadeus and Athelstan Listen To Renfield’s Sunday Night Podcast
British MP Renfield R. Renfield was doing his usual Sunday night podcast.
His friend Amadeus Emanon and Athelstan (the butler and valet to the London based billiinaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set) were watching and listening to the podcast on their respective mobile devices.
Read Renfield live on air at one point, “And here’s a couple of stories from the world of global military news.
North Korea is starting work on a new program of tactical nuclear weapons. And in the U.S., the U.S. Air Force has announced its plans to set up a Transgender Flying Academy to see how many drag queens they can get into the cockpits of B-52 bombers as quickly as possible.”
At another point, Renfield read, “Did you know that in terms of sheer percentage numbers, Covid-19 has a lower mortality rate than testifying (or threatening to testify) against the Clintons?”.
Renfield finished his podcast on a historical note, “Why was it a crime for President Richard M. Nixon to authorize a wiretap of the Democratic Party Headquarters at the Watergate Hotel but it was perfectly okay for President Barack Obama to wiretap Republicans at Trump Tower?”.
Both Amadeus and Athelstan reflected on the numbers of “woke” people who would wake up outraged by Renfield’s latest podcast.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday May 23rd
2021.
Dreams of A Ballerina
After a hard day of rehearsing
The ballerina went home
Went to bed
Fell asleep
And dreamed a dream
She dreamed she was sitting on a lake
Surrounded by flamingos
And she wondered to herself,
“But I thought I was performing
in Swan Lake?”.
-A poem written by Christopher
Saturday May 22nd 2021
Dracul Van Helsing 
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