Patience

Career Capitalist and successful Goat breeder Arthur Crockmagnet wiggled his Big Toe expectantly as he lowered it towards the tranquil pool.

“What’s it like?” questioned a voice from behind.

“Don’t know yet” Arthur replied meekly, “My Toe’s still on its way”.

“Oh…..can’t you tell it too hurry up, I’m freezing out here” demanded the voice, its urgency lifting.

“Have patience, Patience”, Arthur intoned in his customary halcyonic enunciation, “You know I can never rush the Toe, for the Toe must always be allowed to make its own way, in its own time, at its own pace…. You’ve got to let the Toe go.”

“Yes, yes, I know,” the voice began to whine, “never rush the Toe, only a slow Toe can ever grow, rah rah rah, honestly Arthur sometimes I swear you care more for that Toe than you do for me…..or your Goats.”

Not the Goats he chuckled to himself.

Arthur’s Toe continued its descent, wiggling about as it sought the path of least resistance on the way to its destination in the mere below.

Then, as his Toe neared the surface, the rest of Arthur’s body tensed, and with a deep breath he plunged his podiatric digit through the waters flimsy skin, ripping apart the hydrogen bonds, tearing a hole in the previously quiescent veneer.

As it broke the surface, globules and rivulets of water were flung into the air, spinning and twisting along their parabolic paths until they splashed back into the rippling membrane, rejoining that from which they had been torn.

The Toe plunged deeper, clearing a path for his foot and then ankle, the displaced water welling upwards, increasing the turbulence on the surface.

Jesus, Arthur thought, wouldn’t want to be a little man in a little boat down there at the moment, be damn rough, might even drown. Crikey, then what about me Goats, who’d look after them? Not Patience that’s for sure, she doesn’t like my Goats, jealous I reckon, damn woman. Why can’t she see……..

But his thoughts were cut short, severed by the vision of his wife’s Tarantula like hand slicing through the air just centimetres from his wrinkled face, smashing into the wall beside him.

Patience had run out of patience.

Patience

Ratfingers

Prospect, Australia

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Artist's Description

My first publishment (and maybe my last) just a bit of frivolous fun, hope some one gets a laugh from it. Thanks go to Noumenon for input.

Artwork Comments

  • Noumenon
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