Friday Fictioneers — Old Thingamybob
You lived in terror of rats gnawing through to your bones with their tombstone teeth as you slept.
One day, a man clattered down the street on stilts and cast some pennies into your hat. You said to him, “Seeing as you’re a giant, do us a favour, mate. Paint us a door and two windows high up on that wall over there.”
“I agree it’s unsightly.” (he meant you, not the wall)
That night, your rheumy eyes deceived you. Above, you saw your doorway leading to salvation away from the meths bottle and rats, if only you had stilts.