I awoke with a start. A grubby, shock headed youngster of about four or five was standing nearby, armed with a stick . The ankle biter was poking me in the side with the infernal thing.
"Are you dead mister?"
"I am most certainly not. Stop poking at me"
"Are you sick?"
"No."
"Are you sleeping?"
"I was, until you decided to -OW, I said stop that immediately! I am getting very cross!"
"Are you a hobo?"
"I most certainly am not a hobo. I am Phineas Matova, Man About Town, Poet at Large and apparently a refugee, through no fault of my own, in your fair city."
The brat blinked a couple of times.
"What's a poet at large, mister?"
I sighed heavily and rolled over onto my side.
"You're too young to understand, urchin. Let me sleep"
I closed my eyes with the full intention of meeting Morpheus, but again felt an unwanted object being thrust into my side.
"What is it now, urchin?" I blearily opened my eyes and was met with the rather disapproving gaze of a policeman.
to be continued..
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Friday, September 25, 2009
In which I am a fugitive. (again)
Seeing the constables advancing and picturing myself in a tiny cramped Manhattan jail, I took the liberty of the ensuing confusion to flee. After pushing past several grandmothers who shrieked and beat at me with their fists, I managed to lose myself in the crowd.
Having put what I thought was a reasonable distance between myself and the police, I staggered into a dark alleyway, that smelt strongly of cabbage and boiled socks. I leaned against a wall, breathing heavily. (Despite my many attributes, athletics are not my strong point)
I heaved a heavy sigh and reached into my jacket pocket for my flask, which was dangerously close to empty. I swigged as much as I could and then carefully placed my trusty old friend back into my jacket, then managed to dodge a bucket of water that was tossed from one of the windows.
"Excuse me, I happen to be thinking down here, could you cease that activity?" This was met with another waterfall and what sounded like cursing in an unfamilar language. Well, indeed. I huffily left the alleyway in search of a better place for Phineas Matova, Man About Town to contemplate his current circumstances.
After walking for what seemed like hours, I happened upon a large and pleasant park. I was growing weary and there was a rather large, leafy shrub nearby. After checking for hobos, I crawled under it and settled in for a good, long nap.
Having put what I thought was a reasonable distance between myself and the police, I staggered into a dark alleyway, that smelt strongly of cabbage and boiled socks. I leaned against a wall, breathing heavily. (Despite my many attributes, athletics are not my strong point)
I heaved a heavy sigh and reached into my jacket pocket for my flask, which was dangerously close to empty. I swigged as much as I could and then carefully placed my trusty old friend back into my jacket, then managed to dodge a bucket of water that was tossed from one of the windows.
"Excuse me, I happen to be thinking down here, could you cease that activity?" This was met with another waterfall and what sounded like cursing in an unfamilar language. Well, indeed. I huffily left the alleyway in search of a better place for Phineas Matova, Man About Town to contemplate his current circumstances.
After walking for what seemed like hours, I happened upon a large and pleasant park. I was growing weary and there was a rather large, leafy shrub nearby. After checking for hobos, I crawled under it and settled in for a good, long nap.
Friday, August 21, 2009
In which I am kidnapped
Yes, Phineas Matova, Man About Town and Poet at Large has returned to Caledon! I know you missed me as much as I missed you, but I was off having adventures.
It all began when one evening in late Spring, I discovered we were out of whiskey. Actually my dear cousin had forgotten to store any in her cellar. She should really get a lock for that cellar. Anyone could just wander in and take up refuge as I did after Auntie threw me out again.
I digress.
I decided to take a stroll, hoping to find a pub nearby. After some wandering, I found one. After spending a enjoyable evening with a bottle of whiskey or..three...I decided to head for home...although at that point I wasn't sure where home was...I found myself walking near Port Caledon, when I had the misfortune to fall asleep in a crate sitting on one of the docks.
It looked quite cosy and comfortable...how was I to know it was to be placed on a boat headed for the blasted United States? I was sleeping. Generally a time when I would assume, one is to be left undisturbed, not packed into a crate, loaded onto a ship, having to ...break out of said crate, be accused of being a stowaway, (I was kidnapped!!) subjected to seasickness, bad food, be made to swab the deck and then be "accidentally" flung overboard by crew members? Luckily we weren't ....that far from shore and besides being a poet, man about town and general bon vivant, I am also an excellent swimmer.
So swim I did....until I reached the shore. Apparently I was in Manhattan, which is what I was told by the police...apparently not that many gentlemen swim in the East River and my arrival caused a great commotion, particularly among the ladies...many of whom fainted.
To be continued...
It all began when one evening in late Spring, I discovered we were out of whiskey. Actually my dear cousin had forgotten to store any in her cellar. She should really get a lock for that cellar. Anyone could just wander in and take up refuge as I did after Auntie threw me out again.
I digress.
I decided to take a stroll, hoping to find a pub nearby. After some wandering, I found one. After spending a enjoyable evening with a bottle of whiskey or..three...I decided to head for home...although at that point I wasn't sure where home was...I found myself walking near Port Caledon, when I had the misfortune to fall asleep in a crate sitting on one of the docks.
It looked quite cosy and comfortable...how was I to know it was to be placed on a boat headed for the blasted United States? I was sleeping. Generally a time when I would assume, one is to be left undisturbed, not packed into a crate, loaded onto a ship, having to ...break out of said crate, be accused of being a stowaway, (I was kidnapped!!) subjected to seasickness, bad food, be made to swab the deck and then be "accidentally" flung overboard by crew members? Luckily we weren't ....that far from shore and besides being a poet, man about town and general bon vivant, I am also an excellent swimmer.
So swim I did....until I reached the shore. Apparently I was in Manhattan, which is what I was told by the police...apparently not that many gentlemen swim in the East River and my arrival caused a great commotion, particularly among the ladies...many of whom fainted.
To be continued...
Sunday, May 10, 2009
A portrait of the poet at large/man about town as a young man.
I was on a visit to cousin Violet's home in Stormhold for tea and snapped this while waiting for tea to be prepared. I was going for "slightly byronesque and rumpled, but incredibly handsome poet and man about town" and think I was rather successful in this endevour! Friday, May 1, 2009
Greetings gentle readers. I Phineas Matova, Man about Town and Poet at Large..have returned!!!
Returned from what, you may ask...and of course I will answer, you silly gooses. *beams*
This is the time of year when I am... press ganged into accompanying my aunts, uncles and assorted others on a grand tour of the Mediterranean. Meaning, Phineas Matova, usually the dapper gent given to merriments of alll sorts, is required to spend a great deal of time with his...tiresome family.
Long, dreary meals, listening to various uncles and aunt blather about the consistency of their broth and whether noodles are the 'devils work' , whilst I stare miserably into my supper.
Even drearier apres dinner gatherings where one's niece or nephew mercilessly tortures a musical instrument or performs an ennui-inducing pantomime, usually followed by a discussion of the various and sundry maladies that have struck those more advanced in age of the family.
My only relief was the embrace of sweet, merciful sleep and the rare escape with Uncle Jeremiah to nearby drinking establishments.
But thankfully, my familial nightmare is over.... at least until next spring.
Returned from what, you may ask...and of course I will answer, you silly gooses. *beams*
This is the time of year when I am... press ganged into accompanying my aunts, uncles and assorted others on a grand tour of the Mediterranean. Meaning, Phineas Matova, usually the dapper gent given to merriments of alll sorts, is required to spend a great deal of time with his...tiresome family.
Long, dreary meals, listening to various uncles and aunt blather about the consistency of their broth and whether noodles are the 'devils work' , whilst I stare miserably into my supper.
Even drearier apres dinner gatherings where one's niece or nephew mercilessly tortures a musical instrument or performs an ennui-inducing pantomime, usually followed by a discussion of the various and sundry maladies that have struck those more advanced in age of the family.
My only relief was the embrace of sweet, merciful sleep and the rare escape with Uncle Jeremiah to nearby drinking establishments.
But thankfully, my familial nightmare is over.... at least until next spring.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Cupid for hire!
As Valentines day is fast approaching, I Phineas Matova, Man About Town and Poet at Large, would like to offer my services to the ladies of Caledon, New Babbage, Steelhead and other nations in the Realm of the Roses as a Cupid for Hire. For the price of twenty-five linden (you pay me, don't be funny now) I shall arrive (in the charming costume above) and give you a kiss. A kiss that shall no doubt make you quite ...weak in the knees...*smiles*
And remember ladies... please no...arguments or scuffles over me...I know I am incredibly charming and handsome, but there is quite enough of me to go around *wink*
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