Castles

The photographs showed that she wore a blue dress to Stonehenge where she tried to make the corners of her lips reach her ears.  The dress looked like Betty Davis.  Narrow waist, sensible shoulders.  The blonde highlights didn’t fit but he liked them.  He wore a purple jumper & drove a brown Austin, imitation leather upholstery.

The photographs didn’t show that he walked with a pirouette, his toes pointing outward in different directions.

Blue dress was photographed at a collection (bunch, assortment, host or gathering) of castles (all grey) which looked like the same castle taken from different angles on the same day but were in fact different castles spanning the 45 days of summer in the northern hemisphere.  One Saturday it reached 31C.  The blue dress came with ice cream & sunglasses attached.

The photographs show that on Saturday & Sundays they went to fairs, won gold fish swimming in plastic bags, watched sheep eating the green from fields, took pictures of castles.  Castles with moats, castles with no moats, but lakes (with ducks), castles (no moats/no ducks) covered in rain.  History beheaded the whole of England.

Her grandmother was Betty Davis fan.  She would have liked the blue dress.  She bulled her eyebrows until they rose, two pale half moons above cupid lips.  She died looking surprised.  She was fond of staring over balconies poignant with the fragrance of gardenia, and saying, “why reach for the moon when you have the stars” and “it’s the little things that count”.

What did she know.