It was eight o’clock.
Another moment or two and the phone would ring.
The last time he was in this position he was not at all sure whether the phone would ring.
That was the time when the third battalion had messed up the fortnightly exercise and not only lost their bearings, but failed to find a telephone box before the motor pool had shut down for the night.
It had been a bad business. The Colonel had said so; therefore it was so.
The phone continued to not ring.
The TV show was over and they were relaxing on the sofa.
He didn’t know her very well. They had only been dating a few days. He kissed her, saying “You’re the best.”
She looked surprised. “What, better than a movie?”
He had to think. He really liked movies. He said “Yep.”
She snuggled up closer and said “Better than the invention of the printing press?”
He said “Sure.”
She said “Better than the discovery of penicillin?”
This one really stumped him. Well, no, obviously not. When you looked at it, penicillin had to be one hell of a lot better than she was. After all, it had greatly diminished the amount of suffering around the world, and as far as he could tell, she hadn’t.
He smiled and said “Sure honey.”
“Better than the development of human language?”
“Sure.”
“The internal combustion engine?”
“Much better.”
“The invention of the wheel?”
He was tiring of it. He said “Of course.”
“The moon landing?”
“Absolutely.”
“The Compass?”
He looked at the time. “No doubt about it.”
“The Internet?”
He broke the cycle by grabbing hold of her hand. He looked into her eyes and said “You’re the best.”
Although, at this point, he knew without doubt… she wasn’t.
Several years after the robbery the safe was accidently recovered.
The enormous, impenetrable safe was recovered from the bottom of a lagoon, situated off a rarely visited island in the Caribbean. When brought to the surface it was still locked… and completely empty. It had been the subject of a great deal of media interest at the time of the robbery. It had been removed from one of London’s major banks, leaving detectives, security experts, safe designers and mystics, scratching their heads.
When the bank was built, the safe was installed first, anchored to the building’s foundations, then the bank was constructed around it. Engineers agreed that to remove such a thing it would have required the demolition of at least half of the bank’s structure. However, after the robbery, forensic teams combed the scene thoroughly finding that nothing had been disturbed.
The fact that such a thing could vanish, was in itself a great mystery, but to have it spotted from a scenic tour operator’s light aircraft in the Caribbean brought the whole thing back onto the front pages. The feedback from the public at large had thrown up the most bizarre and improbable solutions; all of which served to keep the whole thing on the boil. No doubt partly out of shear frustration, the bank’s original reward for information received was doubled.
Meanwhile, in a small café in Venice, Italy, Clive Bloomfield, now Anthony Beddington-Smythe, paid for his afternoon cappuccino, as always, leaving a nice tip. This being a convenient spot when not travelling the world.
On the stroll back to his apartment he reflected on the two most rewarding aspects of his recent enterprise. Firstly there was the commission of the act itself, and secondly that the contents of the safe were now, and would go on being, spent in plain sight.
In order that poetica go not astray
The first sms can very well say,
‘Life on the edge can be very hard
Waiting for the said postcard’.
After waiting a while without affirmation
A second can go with sad realisation.
“A sender is truly left alone
When mobile phones are left at home”.
The lesson one learns and needs to adhere to.
Don’t waste your breath unless they can hear you!
She tried to put the fact that it was Friday the thirteenth out of her mind.
She sat at the table, nervously looking at her watch, she had arrived very early.
Meanwhile, he was running along the street, avoiding the rain. As he entered the restaurant, a quick glance at his watch told him he had cut it very fine.
She wondered whether she was doing the right thing. She had never done this before. Her friend in the office had told her about the dating site and she had thought about it for several months before logging on with her details. Now she was having doubts about what she was doing. She was wondering if there was a back way out when she saw him.
He felt it was rude to turn up right on the dot. It would look as though he wasn’t really bothered about what impression he gave. He should have left work earlier, instead of stopping and talking to his friend on the way out. He peered around looking for the woman in the photo he’d been carrying for several days. He saw her.
She gave a little wave. She felt silly doing it. She felt silly sitting here waiting for him, it should be the other way around. She wondered whether he would see that as being too forward. She was aware of how uncomfortable she was.
He smiled back and made his way between the tables. It was a busy night and he wondered if he should have made enquiries about what were the quiet nights, before making the booking. She would probably think he was not a good planner; and she would be right. She seemed really nice and he wanted to make a good impression.
She stood up as he approached. She thought, should she be doing that? Isn’t that what a man is meant to do?
He approached, saying “Right on time. I hope you haven’t been waiting too long. I didn’t estimate how long it would take to get here very well.” He thought, shut up, you’re rambling. For goodness sake just say hello. She had dressed up for the occasion and looked very attractive. “Well, anyway, hello.” They shook hands. “It’s good to meet up with you in person, after all our messages going back and forth through the site.”
“Hello. No. I haven’t been waiting long.” She lied.
They chatted for a few minutes, until the waiter brought the menus. Her date seemed to be very nice, but…
They were looking them over when noises could be heard somewhere in the corner of the room. They grimaced at each other before returning to consider their choice of food. She jumped, along with many of the diners, when she heard a great clattering coming from what she presumed to be the kitchen. She had known… She should have known.
Moments later two of the kitchen staff burst through the kitchen door followed by a great plume of black smoke. This was followed by an orange glow lighting up the corner of the room as flames ran along the carpet.
The manager was shouting “Please, would you all leave the restaurant. We have a fire. Please don’t panic, just make your way out through the front entrance. Thank you.”
Outside it was still raining and customers were huddling under the small awning. Some were phoning for taxis, while others ran off to their cars. They had got separated in the general rush to get out and he was walking to and fro searching for her. As the crowd dispersed, it soon became evident that she was gone.
In the days that followed he discovered that she had removed herself from the dating website, and after leaving a number of phone messages realised she wasn’t going to return any of his calls.
She was a pragmatist.
Sally was a rude little girl and not really popular with anybody.
Nobody at school liked her. She was a precocious child and her parents had been plagued with her behavioural problems from the word go. She had been talked to by the local police on a number of occasions regarding damage to property and theft. In short, she was a bad lot.
She stood in her neighbour’s shed, peering around. It wasn’t much to look at; a few cupboards against the wall and a bench covered with bric-a-brac. The last time she was here the grumpy old guy had caught her and had dragged her back home. Her parents were livid… and embarrassed. She had been grounded for a week; virtually becoming a prisoner in her bedroom. He would pay for that!
He wouldn’t trouble her this time because his rotten old caravan was missing and she knew he and his miserable wife were away. She had the place to herself, although there was hardly anything worth pinching. It was all junk. If there was nothing she wanted she could always set the place on fire. That would teach him! Nobody could say that she had started it, not if she was careful.
Meanwhile, she worked her way along the rickety old bench top. It was covered with worthless, dusty items that nobody in their right mind would want to steal. There were several empty beer and soft drink cans, some old paper plates, a cracked hand mirror with a carved wooden handle, and an empty picture frame. There was a small stuffed bear with one eye, a framed photograph of a young couple holding hands, an open padlock, with no sign of a key, an empty oil can, a collection of rusty cutlery, and a pile of old and dirty clothes at the end with some that had tumbled to the floor. She picked a few items up; mainly shirts and vests, they smelt pretty bad.
What a shame! She really wanted to take something, but preferably something of value. The only thing that looked as though it would make a nice ornament if cleaned up was the oil can. She picked it up again and shook it harder this time. It was empty. She took the lid off and sniffed. It didn’t smell like oil; in fact there was quite a pleasant odour, some sort of perfume she thought. She put the lid back on and picked up one of the shirts and gave it a rub to see how well it would clean up.
A small puff of blue smoke drifted up from the spout and a strange face appeared on its surface. It was saying “You have but one wish. Use it wisely.”
Any other girl her age would have been horrified at this, but not her; she was precocious. She stood thinking really hard for a few moments. Then she hit on it. The old guy was in for a big shock when he got back. “I wish that ever thing in his shed would disappear.”
Everything in the shed did indeed shake violently for the briefest of moments, and then… there were no cupboards, no bench… and no precocious little girl.
Mike and Rodney were the best of mates.
This had been the case from the time they first met, despite their vastly different personalities. It had been a simple matter of opposites attracting. Rodney had always looked up to his older friend, while Mike had always liked the innocence and straight forward nature of the younger boy. Mike was the worldly type despite his age, while Rodney was very much the wide-eyed innocent that some of the rougher boys had seen as a target; that was before Mike came along.
Mike’s view concerning most of the kids he went to school with was that they were pretty evil. But Rodney, he was OK. He got a real kick out of answering his questions; and Rodney seemed to have an endless supply of these. Today was no different. They met at the far end of the playground, sitting on the bench used for sports.
After a little idle chat Rodney became more serious and said “Tell me Mike, what happens when you die?”
Mike supressed a grin and said “Well, when you die your heart stops pumping blood around your body. Your brain cells die off pretty quickly, the body starts decomposing, and your skin dries out and turns grey. Then this thing called rigor mortis sets in and the body goes really stiff.”
Rodney, who had been sitting in rapt attention, was now thinking it over. He looked up and said “Wow! Thanks Mike.”
Mike went to say something more, but was interrupted by the bell jangling, calling them back to class.
As they moved off to their respective classes Mike watched the noisy crowd pushing and shoving their way back through the narrow doorway into the school building.
He shook his head. There was no way he would tell his friend the truth. That for most of the people around them, death would be a matter of being instantly transported to the nether regions of Hell, where their charred and writhing bodies would remain in agony for the whole of eternity!
No, that would certainly upset him. Besides, he was a good friend… that would have been really unkind.
He heard something rattle as he struggled to get the phone out of his pocket.
He did a lot of driving, driving for a living, but he enjoyed it. He had a regular courier run that took him out of town into the country, then back again. Behind the wheel he was his own boss; nobody looking over his shoulder. The open road was where he liked to be; where he was in his element.
Seeing that the call was from his wife he answered with a cheery hello. The usual stuff, nothing unusual, bits of shopping to pick up at the end of the day. He rang off and peered down the side of the seat. Something had clattered down there, but he couldn’t see it. He shifted a little to one side and looked again. He could see something silver, glinting. A ten-cent piece… that’s what he had heard. He jammed his hand down the gap. He could touch it, but couldn’t get his fingers around it. He was trying a sort of two-finger scissor technique when he heard the bang.
The next thing he knew a nurse was telling him that his wife had been informed. Informed about what, he wasn’t sure. He had been given some sort of drug because the break in his arm was going to be painful when he woke up. It took several minutes, after the nurse had moved on, for him to realise that he had been in a vehicle accident and was now in a hospital bed. He had no memory of any of these events; which was pretty scary. He drifted off to sleep.
Sometime later, as his eyes flickered open and began to focus, he found his wife saying “…and you have no idea what happened?”
“No. There was a loud bang, but I have no idea what happened.”
“Apparently, you ran off the road. The van was towed away; I suppose we’ll find out more later; but none of that matters now, does it? It’s you I’m worried about. What have the doctor’s said?”
“Haven’t spoken to any. Haven’t been awake long.”
She looked around. “I’ll have a word with that nurse.” She strolled back along the ward, leaving him wondering again about what had happened to send him off the road.
She came back and pulled up a chair. “We’re in for a bit of a wait. The doctor will be here doing his rounds in about an hour. We’ll know more then.” She looked around. “I suppose they have a coffee machine somewhere, I’m gasping! You don’t mind do you?”
“No. Of course not, but I can’t help you; they’ll know at the front desk.”
She stood, leant across and kissed him. “Bless you. I’m sure they won’t let me bring you one.” She smiled and took off.
A few minutes later she came back sipping her drink, but she didn’t look happy.
“What’s up?”
“Oh! Just some smart-arse, giving me a hard time.”
“Why? What happened?”
She sighed. “Well, the machine didn’t give me my change, I tried banging the side of it. That sort of thing always annoys me… you know?
He nodded. “Yes, I do know” and grinned.
“I mean, either it’s right or it’s wrong; simple as that.”
“Agreed, but who gave you a hard time?”
“Well, I just happened to complain to a guy standing there. He smirked and told me if that’s all I had to worry about I needed to get a grip. He missed the point altogether, of course. To make matters worse, as I left he called after me saying he would give me the ten cents if I really needed it.”
The man in the bed remembered.
A chat room of trees held a meeting;
It started with just one or two.
But over a number of hours
The numbers just grew and grew!
–
It began with a Gum’s views on logging
And the state that the forests were in;
He wondered why trees were so powerless,
When an elderly Ironbark chipped in.
–
It seemed that an old Oak from England
Had been chatting with a Pine from Rome.
And in no time at all they agreed
That their fears weren’t confined to a zone.
–
“It’s the same the whole world over.”
Said a Dogwood right out of the blue.
And a Cypress and Peach, an Aspen and Beech
All had the same point of view.
–
As more and more trees came on line,
Across many a time zone and border;
The general air turned into despair
‘Til the Oak called them all into order.
–
“I suggest”, it said, with a tone quite dread
And an idea that really inspired,
“That we draw up a list, with nothing missed
Of the actions we think are required”.
–
“Some trees have leaves with a poison
They could drop as folk walk by”
The idea came from a Bonsai
Who could never be labeled as shy.
–
The Plane tree and Chestnut spoke up
With downed power lines that make quite a spark.
Sycamore and Holly thought the notion quite jolly
To leave lots of folk in the dark.
–
Cutting off water with roots in pipes
Was a Cottonwood’s favourite trick.
The Maple and Ash thought morale would crash,
So Magnolia and Cedar gave a tick.
–
The Apple and Linden came forth
With a plan to rot fruit as it grows.
The Alder and Hemlock liked the idea,
And the Willow would not oppose.
–
“A drive can be blocked”, said a Birch,
“With folks trapped to starve in despair.”
“This could be done”, said the Walnut and Plum
With the Persimmon, Hickory and Pear.
–
Cracking footings and bringing down buildings
Was a popular form of attack.
With Redwood and Cherry, Teak, Larch and Mulberry
All voting this way to pay back.
–
The Juniper thought dropping branches
Would knock off a few of their kind;
The Olive and Hawthorn saw merit in that
They had a similar notion in mind.
–
A Poplar proposed crushing by falling.
“You could take out a group to boot.”
The Fir and Pawpaw voted this way for sure,
With Spruce, Box and Elm following suit.
–
When the list was complete a seedling piped up.
“You want humans to do your bidding?
Despite your brave talk
And the problems you squawk,
And the ideas you hawk
I’m plagued with the thought…
Just who the hell are you kidding?”
She was so rude!
In all the time they had been together she had never got this angry. He knew there would be differences of opinion about planning their new house, but he wasn’t expecting anything like this. He was beginning to wonder if all this was worthwhile.
They had argued yesterday about where to put the kitchen window in their dream home. Now she was making a big thing about which wall the bathroom mirror should go on. He had known her for years, but he could only take so much of her nasty moods.
He sat back and looked at her. He too was angry. “Just go, if that’s the way you feel” he said.
“I will” she replied, stamped her foot and stormed off.
“And don’t come back” he yelled.
When he heard the door slam he thought about all the times they’d had together. He suddenly felt very sad. Under his breath he said “I’m really going to miss her.”
He slowly gathered up the windows, doors, kitchen cabinets, tables and chairs, and one by one, started to put the Easy to Build Juniors Family House blocks, back into the toy box.