I know you’ve all been dying to hear the result of my gibberish project (yeah, right!), however it’s summer and mother, who is now living with us, needed underwear and a haircut and since she’s no longer driving, well, you get the picture.
This morning I did finally manage a few chore-less moments to sit down and revisit my squiggles and doodles and here’s what I came up with:
Salvador and the Chocolate Witching Wind
A wind unlike any other, so powerful that birds gave up trying to fly, forced young Salvador to take a different route home from Abuela’s cottage. Instead of tearing through fields of sunflowers, over the hill and down, he followed the Garbanzo River as it wound through town, past bakeries and candy stores whose chocolatey delights always waylaid the wistful lad. He wrapped a scarf around his face thus protecting his nostrils from danger for it would not do to be late for lunch. Would not do at all. The thought of Papa’s mustache, sharpened to a razor point, twitching close to his eye as he received a lecture in punctuality made him shiver. No, he could not be late. You see, Salvador intended to be a watchmaker and thus needed those eyes!
As he passed Pablo’s Cantina, church bells began ringing. Twelve times they cried. Is it midday, he thought, then I am late! The usual senors looked up from their usual positions assessing their usual day: There goes crazy Salvador with a scarf over his face like a bandit. What next? A starfish in his eye?
Young Salvador’s imagination was the shame of the family, often causing Mama to lament he’d inherited Great Uncle Loopy’s “diarrhea of the mind.” Thus when he spotted the church and the clock read only ten after eleven, he assumed the worst. Not that Friar Francisco had gotten drunk and attended to his duties early but that a mighty cyclone followed the awful wind and soon the river would rise and flood the town with hippos in search of chocolate and elephants whose trumpets full of sand would bury the town. He ran toward the church, knowing he would be safe high in the steeple, however, as he did, the wind stole his scarf, twirling it through the air until finally wrapping it over the face of the already melting clock. Chocolate, chocolate – I must have chocolate, he thought. Ah the wicked Chocolate Witching Wind!
Okay – please tell me you guys did better with your gibberish projects!