Charyn's Cherished Adventure

A beautiful day graced the rural film production friendly picture postcard European setting where everybody was decked out in royal ascots feeling good to firm about the turf they were defending when a French competitor came calling, wanting a stake in the action.

“You must cherish a day like this,” Queen Anne stated enjoying the fact she had investment stakes needing tending too.

“I know,” she agreed, “that is why they call me Charyn.”

“That is true now run along and be proud of your red, white and blue colors,” Queen Anne commentated.

As soon as the monarch disappeared, Charyn slipped away lugging the stakes she packed, “These are my Coventry stakes,” she noted confidently walking down the street passing one pub after another, finally deciding on one, Charyn went inside where a violent uprising ensured. “Basha bar,” someone screamed forcing the cocktail spinster to swing into action using a wooden bat. “I can’t believe those hooligans brought back Basha baring, I remembered when the destructive activity was outlawed, they said it would be a long shot that it would ever happen again.”

Seeing the young diner enter, the innkeeper forced a smile, “cherish everything you have,” she told her, “tomorrow it may not be there.”

“That is why my name is Charyn,” she explained.

“Well, Charyn, have a seat, you know King Charles once had three steaks here,”

“I guess he was hungry,” Charyn concluded.

“Yes, he was,” the Proprietor confirmed when an Arabic sparrow symbolically landed on a tree branch outside. “It is Asfoora,” Charyn expressed seeing the flying species cherish each second.

For the next few minutes, the girl watched the bird until Rosallion arrived with a menu, “we have the same steaks that they serve at St. James’ Palace, would you like one?”

“Yes, that would be nice,” she ordered and when Rosallion stepped away she saw two men wearing Ascots, also devouring steaks, “young red, white, blue girl, did you say your pledge of allegiance today?”

“Actually, I am banished, but I do carry my Coventry stakes.”

Hearing this information the pairing feared for their bloody wine and quickly charged the check, escaping out the door.

For the next hour Charyn enjoyed her dinner and when satisfied the youthful creature left through the back exit. Reaching the kitchen dumping grounds, a wolf seemed very persistent attacking a bone thrown away.

“Wolferton is that your steak?” Charyn asked confronting the Israr attitude plaguing the four-legged predator and the animal glared a stare, confirming he was the owner to the meat.

Continuing her international journey, Charyn came upon a copper horse and observed the rider moving pounds around, making things work out, “I had so many steaks today I now have to put pounds here and there,” the rider told her, “I tell you enjoy and cherish every moment or,” then a belching sound interrupted the message.

“Well, that is why my name is Cheryn,” she told the horse person.

Sunset arrived and Cheryn returned to her home country, banishment over, and when she safely approached the cottage, her parents guarded the doorway. “Where have you been?”

“I was banished,” she told them, “and I took my Coventry stakes and took out a few British royal ascots, now we can have our formal entrée.”