The village Peacock
Our village is situated on the cliffs over-looking the Devonshire coast; the clear waters and white sands make it an ideal setting for tourists. They seek a retreat away from their polluting cities; swapping tower blocks for cottages with flowered paths. Our village is not famous for its scenery, it’s famous for Percy the Peacock, who was made famous by a local lad and his YouTube sensation, ‘The diary entries of a village peacock’. Percy’s a delight to tourists, who only witness his antics for a week or so, but a menace to us, the villagers, who put up with him 365 days of the year.
He wanders around our village like he owns the place, peering around shop doors to have a nose, squawking and pecking at those who get too close. He likes to scramble onto the roofs, to reach the highest spot, he cares little for the tiles that smash on the floor. He stretches out his neck and announces his presence to those who will listen. When tourists come, he struts around, occasionally showing his feathers that dazzle tourists, who adore him and take pictures. Some of his feathers are missing, plucked by tourists wanting a souvenir. No wonder he’s become aggressive and won’t let anyone near him. Over the years his become quite plump from tourist treats, who ignore the strictly no feeding signs dotted around the village.
Percy decides where he lives, and if it’s your garden, he will pay you in 5 am morning wake up calls. If you don’t leave out any food, he’ll make a mess of your dustbin, by leaving a trail of litter all over your garden. Once, I was his tenant, and no one warned me about locking my backdoor. Percy liked to assert his authority and boldly walked through my house and left chocolate truffle sized presents on my bed. According to my neighbour, it was a sign he liked me, I detected sarcasm. So, I shooed him off with my broom, and he gladly excepted his next residence of a holiday home. Tourists were thrilled to have their pet peacock, and in off-peak time the empty house became his haven. To the owner’s delight Percy has become the houses mascot, attracting more tourists, who are willing to pay a higher price.
One day a brown feathered bird appeared, it wasn’t a peacock, but a pheasant named Phillis. Percy taught him all his tricks, and soon the pair were inseparable. They worked as a team to torment us, Percy would distract a victim with his feathers, a method meant to lure in females, while Phillis would steal the vegetables out of the bag. The pair sleep on the roofs for protection, their favourite houses are thatched cottages because the straw offers a cushioned bed. If you visit our village you may see Phillis curled up on Percy’s feathered tail. Now, our village is famous for the adventures of Percy and Phillis, a seasonal attraction, a yearly headache.
I am challenging myself to write a 500-word post a day for 30 days. I will choose a random word from the dictionary and to make this challenge more complicated; I will use the same word to create posts on Twitter and Instagram. I will create a haiku for twitter and post a photo on Instagram. If the word I choose is too obscure to make a post, I will choose another word.