“Didn’t you ever play Billy Goats Gruff when you were a kid?”

The incredulity on Harry’s face would have made her feel even more ridiculous if she had not seen this level of excitable but inherently ironic disbelief from him before. He loved pretending to be amazed that she, having grown up in a completely different country and speaking a completely different language, did not have a common experience of childhood to him.

“Not once. Should I have?”

A large smile spread across his face;

“Oh yeah, you should have. You know looking across here at this beautiful old bridge, I’m thinking that we ought to play; right now, right here.”

With that he started to throw his leg over the wall. This was good, even spontaneous until she realised that she still did not have the slightest inkling what the game that he wanted to play was all about; any moment he was about to be over the wall.

She reached out and threw her arms around him, pulling him back and distracting him with a kiss

“Tell me how to play, and where are you going?”

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This Ficlet was inspired by the following image:

Photo by Wolfgang Staudt (on Flickr) you can see the photo’s page here.