I can't help it. It's just there. Waiting for me to try it on.
I can read the sign perfectly well
"Please, do not try on the wigs?"
But I just want a picture with me and the wig.
Is there anybody around? No.
Quickly then.
Phone ready, selfie camera on
Wig on my head.
Silly face.
Click the camera.
Sensible face
Click the camera.
Wig back where it belongs.
Job done.
What else is in the shop? Nothing much of interest. Hopefully, a very funny photo that I can post to everyone.
First of all, let's see how the photos look? Hehe. Very funny. I like them. I prefer the one with the sensible face.
Of course, it goes where it needs to go. Online for everyone to see.
…..and that's it. That's my story.
"That's it? You said that you were writing stories for children," said one of the children.
"It's for children. They like seeing people with orange wigs "
"No they don't. You're just a naughty clown in the story. No plot, no hook, no nothing."
".....and you are an expert on stories?" I asked.
"No," said my child, voice of reason. "I don't need to be."
"Why is that?"
"Because it's pants."
(For those living on the other side of the pond, pants is referring to underpants. Also used to describe anything that is, quite frankly, pants).
"It's not pants," I said. "Why don't you show it to some of your friends? Tell me what they think?"
"Ok."
A few moments later.
"What's the verdict?"
"Pants. Total pants."
"Did you really ask your friends?"
*Yes."
"Show me."
Today, I realise, it doesn't matter what I think The message from above and below is loud and clear.
Better luck tomorrow.
Pixabay
Freewrite task; prompt by 
Thank you for reading.
