Waiting for Bordeaux

Image by djedj from Pixabay
Sammi’s #WWP #198

He had his kitsch. She had her kitsch. Never the twain could meet.
His lawn sported a Greek pavilion around which sprawled a miniature golf course.
Her lawn spawned stone excrescences of fauns, fairies, and a Michelangelo’s David.
One day, his golf ball took out David’s right . . . ear.
He trotted over holding a bottle of Bordeaux and apologized.
Together they looked at each other’s kitsch admiringly.