Paul J Penton – Songwriter

Picnic – Daily Object Writing- Aug 30

The hill slopes down to the bottom of the botanical where a white rectangle will soon come to life. The Tartan rug has a miscellany of delicacies spread all over, from musty tasting humus and pita breads, to legs and breasts of red roosters finest chicken. The rug is also adorned with the flutes of wine bottles in varying vintages and styles. I’m sipping on a West Australian Chardonay, crisp and fruity, the classic white I think it is, all very pleasant. The conversation meanders around current events and how beautiful the sunset is . A chicken leg is greasy in hand as I start to mow it down to the bone, a slightly smoky roasted flavour enflames my taste buds. A hint of breeze bouncing off the trees sets off the 25+ temperature, truly delightful, like you’d read about in a Jane Austin novel or something, Ye’ olde English aristocracy parties with ladies in flowing dresses and gentlemen in smart suits. We’re all here dressed in our finest jeans and branded tops awaiting Holywood’s next brilliant piece of propaganda.