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Transience, even here

Ani's yellow chiffon descended on his head and, for once, Dindsay was silenced. Even dumbstruck. For all too brief an interval, an other-worldly calm permeated Stufital's Old Manger. Diners sat motionless, their steak-laden forks frozen in mid-air like so many bullrushes in a frosted millpond. Coral, realising her song could suddenly be heard, dropped to a velvet pianissimo. Mr Bab stopped swearing and even the AC seemed to draw breath. Such moments are short-lived. Dindsay found his tongue and the mock-doric noise generator licked back into life, with the grace of a rusty pulley. Normality, sadly, was restored.

2 comments:

  1. A google search that led to my blog was 'fat ladies chiffon'.

    Whoah: I recommend Mozart for such opportunities/revelations!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Greetings - I thought this post was going to pass without comment! Thanks for the rescue :)

    ReplyDelete

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