A tiny fly ambled through the fine hair on Typist’s forearm. She sipped her coffee and waited for inspiration from The Trio. They were squabbling amongst themselves.
Typist turned down their volume and watched and black ant skitter across the wrought iron tabletop. She could hear cars speeding on the freeway, an airplane overhead, and Henny whimpering for freedom from her tether. The fourleg had looped her thick neon orange braid around a tree. How typist longed to allow the pup freedom… and yet she was aware of a high likelihood that doing so would leave her fourleg-less.
“Aren’t geraniums an old person’s flower?” asked the Muse of Many Questions.
“Typist is old,” Urania answered. “In her golden years, she now invites geraniums to mingle with vinca, alyssum, and dianthus.”
Thalia took a sip of coffee with cream and listened to the cardinals, mourning doves, and wind chimes. “Is there anything finer than a summer morning on the deck? And what if all years were considered golden years?”
“Well… ,” Urania huffed, “… it’d be nicer if somebody came up with a title for this post. Untitled post! Makes us look like amateurs — or senile.”
“I think it makes us look confident and bold.” Calliope adjusted the red table umbrella to offer Typist some shade. “We belong, no matter what.”
“What’s on the docket today?” Urania was tired of bickering and changed the subject. Besides, she recognized Calliope had made a good point to which she did not have a comeback.
“Pictures for the book! So far we’ve decided we need to find a photogenic bridge for Chapter A… and we need Henny to sit under the table and look at the camera for Chapter B.” Thalia fixed her gaze beyond the peonies. “The introduction requires an old farmhouse with a wraparound porch… where are we going to find that?”
“I’m not sure yet,” said Cal, “And if we’re going to make it to yoga class… we need to say good-bye to this untitled post.”
“Bye!” said The Trio.
Typist collapsed the umbrella, closed the laptop, and headed inside to change her clothes.
Perhaps “Untitled” could also be viewed as “tabula rasa” so readers might impart their own Saturday plans, or sources of farmhouse pictures. Or come back to book crafting after his/her own Leonardo da Vinci-esque stepping away to promote a fresh new take, as author/typist, after a few down dogs!
Happy Saturday! (geraniums and all)
ME: Are geraniums an older person’s flower?
DEB: (no hesitation) Yes.
ME: Well, alright then! 😐