Once upon a time there was an ever-growing clan of pigeons who found the statue of the lad and the big bad wolf as attractive as the photographers who featured photos of it everywhere. It was a beautiful bronze color, that is, it was until the pigeons did what they normally do when they float over your head and take aim.
Over the years people thought the spots turned the statue into a magical masterpiece that the town council – to save funds – cheerfully agreed to leave uncleaned. Eventually all that the tourists who came looking for the statue could find was a huge whitish gray, compost wannabe pile that the pigeons kept contributing to.
Thankfully most tourists thought the artistic touch added by the pigeons was even more impressive than the original statue which was no longer visible. By doing nothing the town found itself living happily ever after.
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Denise offers “float” as the prompt word for this week’s Six Sentence Stories.
Poetry, Short Prose and Walking 