Small Town Fantasies

It makes a heart glad to know there are still, small country towns like Woodford, where homes with large old trees, sit scattered between small shops and local businesses To think the spirit of Elvis exists in a greengrocers’, called, “Grapelands.” ‘Elvis Parsley’ swivelling his hips amongst the carrots and parsnips imitating “Blue Suede Shoes." I select a punnet of strawberries as a smile slips out at the absurdity, of how, some live out their fantasies “Blue blue “…you can do anything I cross the street to check out a “Second-hand” furniture store. It is closed so I cup my hands and peer through the window. A group of old, store mannequins piques my interest, draped in 50’s fashions It seems like a time warp, as there are no opening hours posted on the door. I wonder if the mannequins are an eccentric collection, or, if they were for sale, which one, I would buy, The one, with eyes, demurely cast down, or, the arm-less one, looking enviously past her Back on the street, I inhale sun-warmed earth, as I walk past a garden’s bright picket fence. A shiny black crow flaps up, startled. Suddenly I smell, what the scent of home is like, for someone else. For My Kind of Town Contest Janis Thompson