No ratings.
This is a collection of poems told from fictional view points. They are not about me. |
My phone beeped, an irritating noise and I knew I'd received a text. The number was quite unfamiliar and I wasn't sure what I'd find next. "Meet me at 4pm at Hannigan's Pub. Your life depends on it." I scrunched my nose, and raised a brow. I didn't feel threatened one bit. I'm not some rock star or TV guru, I'm no one famous at all. I'm sure it had gone to the wrong number, But it could prove entertaining to call. "Yes?" answered a terse voice, a man, and I shook my head - too cliched for me. "I think you have the wrong person, I'm 021 764 923." The voice swore and grumbled a bit, and I smirked as he snarled down the phone. "I write for the local newspaper, sir, so I'll be there, but I won't come alone." "Stow it," he growled, and I wisely shut up. "Just you think on this sonny, I have your number now, young pup." I cringed as I realised the truth, and hastily checked the locks on my doors. Then I raised another brow and snarled back "and soon the police will have yours." Free verse with ABCB rhyme scheme. Written 25 June 2013. |