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Aristophanes had played both real and lawn tennis, but had never felt comfortable with his sporting prowess. This year would be different. He was determined to appear in some amateur open events in London and the Southern Counties; Queens CLub, Eastbourne, Hurlingham and needed to get in shape without necessarily exposing himself to the public.

Ergo, one of the larger rooms in the warehouse complex had been changed into a simalcrum of both a lawn and real tennis court, complete with markings and galleries of impermanent plywood. The net came courtesy of Carina, and even Hampton Court palace did not notice it gone until the day afterwards. Carina was a thief and no sportswoman, and the Lady Alexia thought sport beneath her and verrrrry boring, so finding a practice partner was difficult. The wall was acceptable, but rather predictable and also terribly unenganging.

What was sport without an opponent to spar with.

Thus, on a spring day with sun streaming in, the moon-a-muck padded around as fast as its short little legs would carry it, fielding Aristophanes hit tennis balls with its nose trumpet, and launching them back over the net with a sneezy “Poo-HOOOO”.

For now, it would suffice…

Copyright Mulberry Lightning 02.04.15

5 minutes of retro mind wandering as a buzzard struggles to0 find a thermal outside the window

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