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Janice said she wanted to show me how well she skipped with her new skip rope I watched as her small hands held the wooden ends and her arms circled like windmills and her feet lifted from the ground in an odd dance the rope going over and under over and under have a go she said no it's OK I said let me show you how good I can draw my new gun from my holster I said tapping the toy gun at my side a brown hat (an uncle's trilby) plonked on my head she watched me her red beret on her head the lemon dress I liked her in the black plimsolls touching toes I took out the gun and spun it around my finger like I’d seen in the Jeff Chandler films my old man took me to see my other hand spaced at my side I put the gun back in the holster and on the count of 1-2-3 I drew the gun in the blink of her lovely blue eyes as 1-2-3 bad cowboys (invisible to her) fell and died can I have a go? she asked sure you can I said so undid the belt and holster and gun and handed them to her to put on which she did in clumsy fashion all fingers and thumbs once she was ready (at her own female pace) she said count me in so I said ok and counted 1-2-3 and she went for the gun and sent it spinning through the air catching sun light on the silvery parts as it fell to the ground with a clattering spark flying cap banging sound.
0
Feb 28, 2014
Feb 28, 2014 at 3:44 PM UTC
NOT A GIRL THING.
Janice said she wanted to show me how well she skipped with her new skip rope I watched as her small hands held the wooden ends and her arms circled like windmills and her feet lifted from the ground in an odd dance the rope going over and under over and under have a go she said no it's OK I said let me show you how good I can draw my new gun from my holster I said tapping the toy gun at my side a brown hat (an uncle's trilby) plonked on my head she watched me her red beret on her head the lemon dress I liked her in the black plimsolls touching toes I took out the gun and spun it around my finger like I’d seen in the Jeff Chandler films my old man took me to see my other hand spaced at my side I put the gun back in the holster and on the count of 1-2-3 I drew the gun in the blink of her lovely blue eyes as 1-2-3 bad cowboys (invisible to her) fell and died can I have a go? she asked sure you can I said so undid the belt and holster and gun and handed them to her to put on which she did in clumsy fashion all fingers and thumbs once she was ready (at her own female pace) she said count me in so I said ok and counted 1-2-3 and she went for the gun and sent it spinning through the air catching sun light on the silvery parts as it fell to the ground with a clattering spark flying cap banging sound.
A BOY AND GIRL IN 1950S LONDON.
terry-collett
Written by
Feb 28, 2014
Feb 28, 2014 at 3:44 PM UTC
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