For years now, in the winter, there have been very, very small people living under the brick floor of my grape arbor. Apparently.
I haven’t seen these people but I think they must be really quite tiny, to get around under there. I know they are there because every winter they create constructions between the bricks.
Here you can see the brick floor of the grape arbor, covered in leaves: grape leaves, birch leaves, maple leaves. More still falling.
When I am not looking (it might be at night– I don’t know because I am not looking) they come out and build things.
They use mud, and sand from under the bricks, to hold up various bits of vegetative ornament.
Some brick people are minimalists.
Their creations may be houses. I like to think they are art. At the least they are artistic houses…
I look down at them and wonder.
But sometimes I look up.
MYSTERY UPDATE: I’ve made a permanent page for my discussion of Uncanny Death, The First Ever Transatlantic Twitter Crime Novel. The link is at the top of this page.
I’m having a good time with this project. Of course my co-author, Kininvie, is semi-impossible, but I am mad with the power of controlling all those characters. (I’ve scheduled another seance, just for poor Fluffy…)