Mid-Week Flash Challenge - Week 95

This week's photo prompt is by French photographer/artist Teddy Locquard. He has some fantastic and funny creations over on his website. You should check it out. Or click his name for his twitter feed where he shares stuff too.  

I reflected the picture with this one, went a little surreal - or is that eccentric? You decide. 

The General Guidelines can be found here.

How to create a clickable link in Blogger comments can be found on lasts week's post here.

There is also a Facebook group for Mid-Week Flash, if you fancy getting the prompt there.

Balancing Act

Walter felt he was above all that, and from his perspective he was. But he’d tripped up and it nagged at him. He had to draw a line between what he had done and what was acceptable, especially now it was in print.

Walter had always lived a better life than others, even though many wouldn’t know it. They saw his tatty top hat and boots and took him for a simpleton. It was when he started speaking that heads turned. Words made him eccentric rather than a tramp, a genius rather than a dullard. He could spin them well, into anything he wanted, and it kept him up high.

But some days they knocked him down too, and that was where he was today, on a high wire trying to find his balance.

Raven had joined him, and kept pecking at the paper as though he knew the upset they were causing and wanted to draw him away. It was hard; the words were there, in black and white and couldn’t be ignored. 

“Eccentric Billionaire Suspect in Eliza Hawcroft’s Murder”

“Not To Be Trusted Sources Say”

“Current Whereabouts Unknown” 

He shook the newspaper out again as though it might rearrange the letters, but they didn’t change.

‘What a to-do, what a to-do.’

‘You’re not an owl, Raven, stop staying that.’

‘But they’ve bested you.’

‘Not yet they haven’t, not yet. Words will win the day.’

‘But what about actions?’

‘We can’t live in regret, we have to move forward.’

‘Would Eliza agree?’

Walter whipped the paper back and eyed the bird, who responded the same.

‘We can’t presume what the dead might have thought; only the living know their own minds.’

‘Too true. Too true.’

‘There’s that owl again.’

‘Sorry. But you will have to speak to them.’

‘Who?’

‘And you call me an owl!’

‘Damn, bird. To whom do you refer?’

‘Them.’ Raven pecked the paper.

Walter snorted. ‘They will have to find me first.’

‘But you said words will win the day?’

‘Yes, when they are required. In the meantime, they are not.’

‘But you will have to go home eventually.’

‘Arh, but to what home? Being that I am an eccentric billionaire I have many.’

‘But you are not a billionaire.’

‘But they don’t know that. So they won’t know what home I will be at.’

Raven remained silent.

‘Stumped you now, have I?’

‘You speak in riddles.’

‘Like the rest of them. It’s riddles that keep us alive. All the big questions contain them: what is the meaning of life? What causes a man to commit murder? Why are women and men so different? And why does blood always look more when spilled? Many a rabbit hole in that lot that will keep you talking in circles.’

‘Did her blood look more when spilled?’

‘It covered the entire floor.’

‘Ha! Tripped on the first question!’

Walter checked one side of the bird and then the other.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Looking for your warrant and badge. I see there is none.’

‘I am not a policeman. I keep the secrets of man.’

‘My point exactly.’

‘So where do we go from here.’

‘I fear the answer is down.’

They both looked at the rooftops beneath them. Walter knew Raven was right. He had to return home and there they would be waiting for him. What a to-do indeed.