As part of the Poised Pen group’s annual Secret Santa I was surprised to be challenged this year to write a piece about Angles. What the fup, I thought, do angles have to do with Christmas? So I spent a happy couple of hours crafting a nice little ditty about a solitary, retired geometry teacher on Christmas Eve. The nicest touch in the whole thing was that the man was called Clarence, after the angel in It’s a Wonderful Life. Frankly, the finished article was on the -ish side of ok. Only on checking the challenge did it dawn that the challenge was Angels, not Angles.
So back to writing board, in pretty quick order, as time was tighter than a tight analogy I can’t think of immediately. Then came the pome Christmas Without Angels, which I’ve now posted elsewhere on this site. Unusual for me in that it doesn’t rhyme and the opening owes something to Brian Patten’s Hair Today, No Her Tomorrow. That’s about as far as I’ll go in comparing myself to Brian Patten – it’s like comparing myself to Steve Gerrard because I go to the match, and he’s on the pitch.
In the end, the Queen of Flash Fiction, aka Catherine Connolly, seemed quite pleased by the finished article and the few people who’ve seen it prior to publication quite like it, so potentially in the next volume I’ll be hoping to bring out next year.