Bromford and Woodpecker …

 

… and as the wind opened the window the ghost disappeared together with the swaying curtains.

- The End -

»That was the damn finest novel I have ever read or listened to«, the llama whispers in awe. »I told the cloned mammoth lady you were writing a novel but I thought it would be some kind of fake and boring autobiography. And I never thought it would be that good.«

»I would say it is lacking at least one kind of bird as a protagonist - let's say a woodpecker«, said the blue woodpecker.

»Let me guess, bird«, the llama adds sarcastically, »and you would call it 'Woody'.«

»Why not?« asks the red woodpecker. »Woody Woodpecker is the most famous of all woodpeckers. He is our hero.«

»And that extraordinary laugh of him.«

The blue woodpecker is dreamily rolling her eyes.

»How much wood would a woodpecker peck if a woodpecker could peck wood?«

The llama is also rolling its eyes but not in a dreamy way.

I am shaking my head annoyed by the direction this blockblog post is taking.

»As much wood as a woodpecker would peck, if a woodpecker would peck wood«, the red woodpecker says.

»Always these repetitions!« suddenly the llama complains. »How much repetitions would a repetitor repeat if a repetitor would repeat repetitions?«

»But your nose is way too pointy«, the blue bird says to me.

Then she flies away and starts drumming and pecking and drilling holes into the kitchen cupboard.

»Are there any more birds on your list of possible future animal-companions?« the llama wants to know.

»Only one, two, three or four«, I say.

And after all I close my laptop on this very early Monday morning.

🚻

Today is Monday, the 1st of September, 2025.