To do this or that.
To see where you’re at.
To cuddle a cat.
To buy a new hat.
To chastise a brat.
To live in a flat.
To tie a cravat.
To shake out a mat.
To swipe at a gnat.
To stop for a chat.
To fiddle a stat.
To cut off the fat.
To look through a slat.
To dress for combat.
To trap a large rat.
To oil up a bat.
To stir a large vat.
To eat a smoked sprat.
To hold a wombat.
To change a format.
To make pigeons scat.
To break up a spat.
To know where you’re at.
To do this… or that.
He was confronted with making the most important decision of his lifetime.
Holding the highest office in the land didn’t help. If he chose one way he could easily regret it when it turned out to be an overkill. On the other hand going in the other direction could easily lead to it being seen that he hadn’t done enough to resolve the situation. He’d had a number of discussions with his closest advisors and found to his annoyance that their views came in at around fifty-fifty. He knew he had to be absolutely positive that the decision he made was the right one. A great many lives would depend on what he decided.
He went outside, confirmed that there was no one around, slipped his hand in his pocket and took out a coin.
He tossed it.
He had been standing in the queue for over three hours.
It was late afternoon and the shop would be closing soon. A whisper had come down the line that it too had run out of corned beef, but it was only a rumour. It was probably started by unscrupulous types who just wanted to reduce the queue to improve their own chances. He wouldn’t be surprised. The shortage had been going on across the country for over a week at this point and things had been getting ugly. There had been TV reports showing scuffles and even fights over the last few cans on supermarket shelves. Now, it was the smaller shops, like this one, that people were finding still had a small number of tins left, although these were usually more expensive.
Not that the price was stopping the rush. He had heard that the black market sales were going through the roof. None of this was surprising. Just the thought of going for more than a week or two without a corned beef sandwich was enough to drive some people crazy.
Nobody knew for sure, but it had something to do with a sea container shipment capsizing mid-ocean somewhere on route from Brazil.
He and those around him saw the queue in front breaking up and wandering off. The shop had closed. He checked the time, noting that they’d shut twenty minutes early. This was becoming common, now.
Closing up as soon as the last tin was taken off the shelf… for safety reasons.
She woke up finding that she had been turned into a rabbit.
This was going to have a major impact on her life, her circle of friends, her everything! She sat thinking for the longest time. She went out into the garden to see whether anything else had changed; it hadn’t. The dog was strolling around the yard, as usual. It didn’t seem to notice her. This really amazed her. She watched as he went over to his food bowl. This made her wonder about the sort of thing she was expected to eat. She had no idea because the family had never owned a rabbit. She wandered around aimlessly for a while until she came to the small vegetable garden. She sniffed at the lettuce, it smelt wonderful. She sat eating for a while. On her way back to the house, the dog suddenly appeared. It padded right up to her and sniffed. She was frozen with fear. Then, seeming satisfied, he just trotted away.
Well, it’s not that bad, she thought, the nasty animal never stopped chasing me when I was a cat…
It was what those in the business called a ‘job lot’.
He sometimes had work for two, but this was for three. It would be a nice little earner. He spent the usual couple of weeks watching their daily habits, making notes. The two men went first. One went off his balcony, the other tripped in his bathroom. The third, a young woman, who seemed to have very little in the way of regular activities. She was hardly ever at home in the evenings. It was apparent that she only slept there, and not every night. With this kind of target, nothing was predictable. He had spent an additional week, following her around.
He was keeping pace with her as she walked along the opposite side of the busy street when it happened. In keeping with her random and scatty nature, she suddenly stepped of the pavement into the path of an oncoming vehicle. He entered the nearest shop and stood watching the drama unfold through the front window, along with others who had heard the commotion. The traffic had backed up and both police and ambulance were attending. A paramedic was trying to resuscitate her. He finally looked up shaking his head. He took his small notebook out. Wow! What a bonus!
He opened it and crossed her off his list.
She knew that she wasn’t the most likeable person.
It was a cold night and the thin blanket that covered her, in the gap between the dumpster and the wall, just wasn’t up to the job of keeping it out. She lay there shivering and thinking. She remembered, when she was little, her father telling her that some people were simply meant to be cold. She closed her eyes, still thinking. She’d actually known that she wasn’t likeable for some time. It started at infants’ school, being rude and disrespectful to teachers, fidgeting and not listening to what she was being told, spitting, nose-picking and always eating with her mouth open seemed to come naturally to her. Fiddling with her hair, popping zits, picking scabs, belching, not flossing and poor hygiene generally, were all ongoing. Then, she supposed, being ungrateful and greedy, being defiant, together with outright lying and cheating came a little later. She knew her thoughts were rambling.
She squirmed and thought about all the bullying, biting fingernails, swearing, picking fights and telling other people’s secrets became the norm. Even later came spending too much time on social media, along with occasions of overly affectionate displays in public. There was a time of constantly checking her mobile phone without regard for others, eating much too much fast food, drinking far too much alcohol, spending endless hours on video games, obsessively snacking, staying up late, sleeping-in and never being on time. There was talking loudly during movies, exaggerating, eavesdropping, being argumentative, all with the result of annoying other people, overspending and maxing out on all of her credit cards.
The rambling continued. She remembered how she had continually argued with her parents and eventually got thrown out. She had upset every boy she’d ever had a date with and she could never hold down a job. She pondered the idea that it was totally inevitable that she should wind up on the street as a vagrant, begging for money and sleeping rough.
She adjusted her blanket.
Somehow, she thought, there was some sort of balance to all this. Some kind of unavoidable, fundamental principal at play.
She sighed and smiled softly when she considered her one saving grace…
She had never really liked anybody…
You could say that the place was in the middle of nowhere.
The cottage was in a dead end road that was hardly used, especially during the low season. It was more of a lane really, tucked away in the countryside. It contained just half a dozen holiday homes, three on one side, and three on the other. They were simple dwellings, nothing glamorous, rented out to those who wanted to get away from it all. That night he had driven there from work and was checking through the rooms, making sure everything was as it should be. When the weather improved he would be renting it out again. It was a cold night, but he wasn’t about to use the heating as he wouldn’t be there very long. In fact, he had almost finished his inspection when he heard it. It was a distant crackling sound.
He moved to the front and peered through the window. The pretty little cottage opposite was on fire. An orange glow was flickering behind the curtains and some smoke was visible. He knew the owner. He was sure he wasn’t there as there was no sign of him when he arrived an hour earlier. The sound of it was growing louder. He ran back through the house and into the garden. Knowing how poor the signal was, and having discovered that it was better at the back, he stood holding up his mobile phone. He had all the local emergency numbers. He was squinting at the screen, looking for the bars. Nothing! He began walking around, looking for a good spot.
As it happened, he didn’t actually like the man that owned the rental home across the road. He had been very rude to both he and his wife recently. It was all rather nasty. The four of them, the two couples, had literally bumped into each other in a shop in the local town. The long and the short of it being the fact that the man and his wife were snobs. Snobs, pure and simple. There was nothing more to it than that. They had been extremely rude. It had really upset his wife, but at the time he felt it best to move on and make no more out of it. He was reflecting on the incident. It was ironic that the store they were in at the time was the last in that row of shops, right next to the fire station on the corner.
As he stood, straining to see a workable signal, a cloud of dark thoughts began to work their way in. His arm was aching from holding the phone up. He lowered it and rubbed his muscles. It had been about the properties; such arrogant remarks. It was about how the front of their cottage had been repainted recently, while his was looking shabby and lowering the tone of the place. He stood for a while wondering how such a conversation could have started. He felt that he shouldn’t be thinking about these things right now. They weren’t relevant to the situation, or there again, where they? But, after all, there was the issue of a moral imperative here. He had a duty, hadn’t he?
He returned to the front and saw that the fire had taken a strong hold. It would be completely burned out long before any emergency service could get there. It was a cold night and he found himself appreciating the heat. In fact, it was a pleasant sensation, having the warmth work its way through him. He suppressed a grin. He would be leaving soon. He had mixed feelings about what had happened. There was no need for anyone to know that he’d actually been there. Even at home, there was nothing unusual about him coming home from work a couple of hours late.
By the light of the fire he glanced again at the screen.
He never could get a signal at the front.
She returned to her flat in the city after a long holiday away in a country town.
It was a lovely break, spending time on long walks and taking in nature. At the same time it was nice to be back at home again. She could stay relaxed for a couple of days before returning to work. There had been no internet connection at the cottage she’d stayed in and she was keen to get back into the old routine. She had a hobby. A costly one, but an enjoyable hobby all the same. She collected shoes. Put simply, she spent a great deal of money collecting, but hardly ever wearing, unbelievably precious shoes. The ones she liked were always expensive, but she was very much her own person. She lived alone and her job paid well. It was a luxury she could afford.
Sometimes she found really exotic pairs that were greatly reduced because the owner had changed their mind about them. She had come across some amazing bargains that way. Because so many of them were so luxuriously classy she only wore them out on special occasions. Most of what she had collected were bought over the internet, on a site she had found that specialised in preowned luxury clothing, including shoes.
Naturally, as soon as she had unpacked she made a beeline for her favourite items. When she opened her computer she found that it only had a temporary site displayed, as the regular interactive site was currently offline while maintenance on it was being carried out and bugs were being fixed. Although disappointed, she decided to spend time perusing the photos that were available. This alone would be enjoyable, having been deprived of the pleasure of drooling over such beautiful merchandise for so long.
She began with the individual displays of single pairs. After several minutes she was surprised to see a particular pair of shoes. In a way, she was horrified. Unless she had it wrong. What she was looking at was a pair that would have to be one of the most expensive in her entire collection. They were purchased some time ago when she’d received a very generous bonus from her company. She had never divulged what she paid for them. They were originally owned by an Arabian princess who had them made for her for some special occasion, but for private reasons no longer wanted them. They were handmade for her and were absolutely unique!
Realising that she must be mistaken and she was obviously looking at either a copy of the originals or simply a pair that looked incredibly like the originals. She moved on to the collections. It was there that she found a picture of a number of shelves inside a cupboard that contained several rows of lavishly exclusive shoes. The photograph she was confronted with looked remarkably like the cupboard in her bedroom.
She immediately jumped up and using the key she kept in her purse went through to her room. She didn’t need the key. The cupboard sat partly open. Swinging the door back, she found it empty.
Let’s just say… she was awfully annoyed.
The first time he saw the new lady bank teller he was smitten.
It was only by chance that he’d called in that afternoon. He’d been visiting his uncle for lunch. His route home took him right passed the bank. He had popped in quickly to do a bit of banking when it happened. All of a sudden, there he was, looking at this goddess. A true Goddess here on Earth. He had never seen such a beautiful woman. He left the building in a daze. He wanted to go back in, just to look at her, but managed to pull himself together. He would find a reason to come back… tomorrow.
That night he dreamt about her.
The following day found him standing outside with several customers, waiting for the bank to open. When he went in, he ended up behind three other people queueing at her counter. After what seemed to be forever, the large man in front of him moved away.
He stood, frozen, transfixed; unable to move.
She smiled and said, “Good morning. How can I help you today?”
He gazed at her. The first thing he noticed was that one of her teeth was crooked, then he saw the mole on her chin, then he noted the fact that one earlobe was larger than the other, and the fact that the end of her nose was much too pointy. He was counting her pimples when she repeated, “Sir, how can I help you?”
As he left the bank, thoroughly baffled and disappointed, he thought back to lunch with his uncle and his homemade elderberry wine.
Who would have thought that just two glasses could have done that!
It started before he was born.
His mother was eight weeks pregnant with him when she tumbled backwards down the escalator at the shopping centre. When he was a toddler, he managed to get hold of the plastic bag the shopping came home in. He was pulling it over his head when his mother screamed and took it away from him. There was the time he swallowed one of his plastic building blocks. There was another time when his mother saw him reach up for the handle of the saucepan that was boiling potatoes at the time. His mother caught him one day trying hard to push a metal nail file into a power socket. Of course, there was the time he fell into his uncle’s swimming pool. He was floating face down when they found him. It took a while to resuscitate him. Then, there was the day his father found him playing with his old service revolver. He was holding it up, peering down the barrel when his father came into the room.
Of course, there were numerous incidents, like falling out of bed, cutting himself on a tin opener, hitting his head on a cupboard door, burning his fingers when playing with matches, drinking paint stripper and setting light to his pajamas.
Somehow, he managed to survive all these.
That’s why it was so unexpected, when he stepped out in front of the truck.
