R
ichard and Wilson stood on the bridge watching the barges as they moved
lazily up and down the river. Well, Richard was watching the river traffic; Wilson
had made himself comfortable on the pavement. He was watching the cars as they
drove across the bridge. The evening sun had painted the city with glowing orange
light. It was that magic time of day when anything could happen.
“Richard, are you hungry at all?” Wilson asked.
“Sorry, what did you say?”
“I asked if you were hungry. Feeling a bit peckish, maybe?”
“I don’t know, Wilson. I think I’m a bit homesick right now. Not really feeling
up to snuff. I want to eat, that’s certain; but with the full moon, my wings have
blackened. I dare not attempt to hunt. Not safe to fly about the city with my wings
in this state, you know. I should be OK in a couple of days though. Don’t tell me you
are thinking of going to a pub? Don’t tell me that you fancy a pint, and a dish of
shepherds’ pie?”
“I should say not,” Wilson replied. “Remember what happened last time we tried
that. It makes me shudder just to think about it!”
Richard threw his head back and laughed. A loud laugh that came from deep in
his belly — the water got a little rougher on the river below. “Looking back at it now
I actually find it rather humorous,” he said.
“Yeah, it really was, wasn’t it?” Wilson smiled as he remembered too. “Only in
hindsight though mind you, only in hindsight.