She appeared as stream and gliding sun,
unaware that her legs had come undone.
‘Goodness gracious! woman get out, this
is my apartment!’ Her laughter, sang as
though a thousand bells.
“No bar of soap could clean that mouth
of yours! Go, get cherry peppers stuffed
with mozzarella and basil.” I gasp while
she goes through my satchel.
‘Enough!’ with anger bottled up inside I
managed a smile. ‘Now, that you’re here
tell me does it bother you often that you
have no feet?’ I observed as she flew out
the window, howling down the street.
Photo credits: Pinterest
I chose to write inspired by, ‘People who don’t know they’re dead: how they attach
themselves to unsuspecting bystanders and what to do about it’ by Gary Leon Hill.
Posted for Sunday Mini Challenge @ Real Toads
and posted on the Poetry Pantry @ Poets United