Me and Mr Putin

A Background Explanation

Before I get started I should probably explain a little of the background to the Me and Mr Putin story; or should I say stories. On a recent holiday I encountered an older gentleman with whom I became fascinated, intrigued and increasingly more curious. He had a passing resemblance to the real Mr Putin albeit, in my humble opinion, rather more attractive.  I grew up in a former British colonial country in Africa and spent many childhood holidays staying with a family friend who lived in a small village in Spain. All of these experiences had one thing in common; they of course had more things in common but only one of relevance in this context.

These settlements are notionally governed by a (usually) male tribal leader or mayor. In practice these individuals may have little real power; but boy do they have influence. Influence is a powerful aphrodisiac. Short in stature these men may be but the status more than compensates when it comes to the ladies! From a tiny Scottish isle to a Mediterranean island the potential is the same. I have long been attracted to the older gentleman especially ones with a suave slightly aloof manner. Of course whilst physical attributes are not entirely irrelevant they are not of overriding importance to me.

As a contemporary spinster, of a certain age, I am ideally placed to observe in a manner that is neither considered intrusive nor inappropriate. Throw in the added vulnerability of a diagnosis of a chronic long term incurable illness rendering me with a physical disability and the contemporary spinster is practically invisible! Flattery is a winner here as I am genuinely interested in the responses to the questions I ask. Accompanied with a little light flirtation and the words trickle out; initially a coy dribble rising to an enthusiastic torrent within minutes. The image of a venus fly trap would be quite apt here; poor darlings frankly haven’t got a hope in hell of escaping! (Discrete sniff followed by a dab of ones eyes with a perfectly laundered muslin handkerchief).

And then I was thinking about the stories I tell my godson, the ones I had read as a child and the ones I read still. Whilst stretching one’s mind to expand ones intellect is essential there are equal times to pause, to ponder and perhaps to fantasise. The idea of a nibble of a novel to accompany the weekly missive came to me. Fairy stories for big girls; light literature for ladies; sophisticated sonnets. I have so many vignettes based upon my recent island observations and once these have been used, well we’ll cross that bridge when we find it!

So this is the plan: a weekly 500 word episode in a series entitled Me and Mr Putin.  I won’t be emailing it out to you a la the missive rather I will put it on this site. The link will be embedded in the missive so regular readers will be able to click on to it should they so wish.

 

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