Cornucopia, Cachet, Cadeaux and Collectibles. Have you ever heard anything so pretentious? Especially above a premises selling car boot sale purchases. HE, pretends to be an expert, his boutique, he does so love anything 'Frenchified' (surprising considering the middle English antipathy to the 'Frog') is slap bang in the middle of a quaint, cute, folksy, quintessentially ENGLISH high street. Sitting cheek by jowl with a saddlers, a supplier to Her Majesty of waxed rainwear and a deli selling artisan sour dough bread, look alike Brie cheese and microbrewery pale ales. You may well ask, what am I doing here.
It is obvious I have class. If he had any sense he would have seen the small impressed mark on my ear but neither he or the oaf who sold it to him, noticed and decided that I was a bit of Blackpool tat or at best tourist Majolica ware. So here I sit with a 'come and buy me' price tag, only thing is no one wants to buy me. Still when the sun shines it's not too bad. At least out here I can watch the world go by, although I do have to put up with children with sticky fingers stroking my ears and you will not believe what some people have put into my cabbage!
I can see that I have piqued your interest and you are wondering how such a wonderful work of art has found its way to this backwater, out on the streets in all weathers. My rightful place, as I am sure you realise, is in some stately home admired by people who know art when they see it.
My life began well over a hundred years ago, and I certainly do not look my age, not a single chip to my glaze. My maker, a famous potter from Italy of course, chose his clay very carefully, could see me within its depths. Many months later I emerged, to much acclaim. I graced the finest tables in Florence and Rome and was much admired. But as with all things, even you, popularity dims and what was once prized as unique becomes old fashioned and stale. I was relegated to the attic with mouldy sofas, torn oil paintings and hideous china. The inevitable came, death duties, a house clearance and I became part of a job lot of odds and ends with little value. I spent my time in many houses with little love coming my way and eventually was shipped away from my beloved Italy.
HE found me in a car boot sale, and payed peanuts. So now I sit outside Cornucopia,Cachets, Cadeaux and Collectibles waiting for someone with any degree of taste to buy me.
Oh dear, it's started to rain again, I don't suppose he'll take me in.
I like this. Took me a couple of paragraphs to catch on to the fact that the story is being told from the antique's point-of-view. I think the antique (and the sparing detail about exactly what it is added to the story) definitely has a 'voice'. Good writing.
Thanks Rosalie for the lovely comments.
what a charming little piece!
what a charming little piece! Is it based on the real item in the picture? Did you buy it?
Thanks insert. My writing class was given the task of finding an image and writing in the first person. This is a photo I took many years ago in Taormina Sicily. He was sitting outside an antique shop and was quite large. Unfortunately the owner did appreciate his worth and so both cost and size prevented me from buying him.
I also liked the slightly supercilious expression on his face.
Thanks eds for the cherries, I wonder if rabbits eat cherries!
This is a fine story and I love the character you gave the rabbit.
Thanks Jenny, my writing class also liked the voice.
I enjoyed this story very much. I watch a lot of antique programmes on TV, and it is amazing how the crowds reject what I often think is a priceless piece, and fight over what I wouldn't want no matter what.
I've done a few personification pieces for writing groups over the years, and think they are great fun.
Thanks Jean. I ike those antique shows, always a hope that I ave an undiscovered treasure lurking in the attic.
I really liked the point of view here. Nice moral too. A sweet tale.
Very enjoyable story and well written too.
Hi Moya thanks for reading and commenting.
great story from the rabbit's mouth, reminded me of that whole genre of an object that tells different characters stories as it changes hands, nice humour and descritpions -- that is one well born rabbit-- I can imagine that highstreet, maybe in Steyning!