There’s a story, the Gypsies know is true, that when your love wears golden earrings, love will come to you. And so, after many fruitless hours driving through the countryside I found a Gypsy and had them pierce my ears. There was a lot of fuss about crossing palms with silver, and then of course the actual cost of the golden earrings, but it was worth it.
Sure, I did end up in hospital on life support after I contracted blood poisoning from the unsterilized needle that the particularly rough and hairy gypsy (she had an amazing moustache) shoved through my ear…and the solid gold earrings turned out to be lead, spray-painted gold…and while I was in hospital the same someone broke into my house and stole my TV and my entire collection of silver thimbles – I could have sworn I smelt the heady scent of patchouli lingering in my front hall similar to what that gypsy wore that night when I finally got released from hospital. AAAAAAAND The girl I had my ears pierced for in the first place ran off with a go-go dancer called “Lynda Lollypops” and moved to Nova Scotia.
But it all was for the best.
Now sweet Marousia the tea lady who took pity on me as I sat retching into a kidney dish is mine and no one will keep us apart. She is strangely familiar and does occasionally wear a patchouli perfume that I am not keen on, but she loves me and I love her and although one of my ex-friends said something unkind about her moustache, I have fallen under her spell and will be marrying her next week.
We are already planning to caravan around England for our honeymoon…
Friday Fiction with Ronovan Writes this week asks us to use a line from a favorite song as the start to a short story of 300 words or less. My song choice was “Golden Earrings” and this is a link to the song sung by the incomparable Peggy Lee. Feel the mystery! OOOOO!