Pocket Fiction


Published November 29, 2018 in Barbosa - 0 Comments


The roof tiles are alive.
Living breathing ecosystems of lichen, moss and dirt.
They respond to your touch
And have stories to tell
Dating back centuries.
You can’t run across the roof
Like a crazy cat burglar.
You have to walk gingerly,
Carefully and pause to ask permission.
And they’re slippery
Especially in the fog.
When it doesn’t need to rain
Because you’re already in the rain.
Barbosa ran across the roof
After drinking too much wine.
Slipped like an idiot
And nearly went off the edge.
The bag of jewelry and coins he had
Fell out of his pocket and
slid down the roof tiles to the street below.
A Carabinieri happened to be walking
down the street and the bag almost hit him.
He picked it up and looked up at the roof.
Barbosa lay flat on the tiles,
Hands clawing to keep from falling off.

MR Stuik 2018

No comments yet

Leave a Reply: