I have no idea about what to write today, so here is a short story that I’ll just jot down here as I go. Hope you enjoy it! (And thanks to the 1951club wordpress blog for the picture – saved me hours with PhotoPaint!)
“Listen, I don’t want to be here any more than the next guy, OK? I mean, it’s not like I’m a BAD driver as such, more unlucky. I mean, sure, there are some real morons out there behind the wheel but I don’t belong with them. The idiot who stopped to let another idiot cross the road when the lights were green deserved to get written off – it was just my good driving that meant that I missed them and hit the traffic light itself. If I had been doing the speed limit, I would’nt’ve been able to drift the car around in the first place. And you know what? The police were all like “you’re a menace” and “say auf wiedersehen to your Audi” and all that crap.”
The speaker takes a deep breath.
“So now I have to walk.”
The look on the speaker’s face is one of pure indignation.
“And you know what? I still see the idiots, crashing into the morons and, vice thingy, you know, the other way round. One nearly hit me today, in fact. Sure the little man was red but there was time if you sprinted and my leg is OK now so I ran across. Some bleeder nearly winged me – hooted his horn, swore out the window at me. Uncalled for, right?”
The speaker nods, agreeing with himself.
“I just made it.”
Now the Speaker looks puzzled, very briefly, before agreeing with himself again.
“Then I got home, found the letter from the cops saying to come here for this meeting right now, and here I am. A bit surprised that it was all so urgent, I mean, I could’ve had more notice and everything. Good job this place is just up the road from home, within walking distance and everything.”
A large figure turns to the speaker and it is only then that the latter truly notices the strangeness of the former. The speaker realises that he has no real recollection of anything except… the faint sulphurous smell emanating from the person in front of him – a person with odd feet and even odder horns.
A deep, slightly melodic voice says “Anything else to add?”
At this, the room dissolves and the speaker sees that he is looking up at the night sky, an aeroplane flying overhead and cold rain hitting him in his eyes. Faces are looking down at him and, as they fade, he realises that he is lying on the road, by the pedestrian crossing.
“Well?” says the deep slightly melodic voice. “Anything else to add?”
“Guess I didn’t make it after all.”