Tuesday, 31 July 2012

On The Night Flash Gordon Flew Down Our Street

On the night Flash Gordon flew down our street I was lying in the bath considering how the bus company has got it all wrong this year. It being summer, they're running open topped double deckers. The calender might say July but you can count the hours of sunshine we've had on the fingers of the one hand belonging to a man who has had an accident working in a sawmill.

The bath was deep and the room was filled with a steam cloud. I reached up and ran my finger through the vapour that coated the window. I still couldn't see anything: a grey fog had filled the street and was trying to find its way in through the window to bond with the cloud that I'd created indoors.

Next thing I know is a buzzing coming down the street like an antique electric shaver and a rattling sound like empty cans strung to the rear bumper of a wedding car.

The fog grew deeper. I sank under the water like a child trying to hide under the bedsheets when a mad axeman decides to creep very slowly upstairs. If only I'd looked out!


  1. i am sorry you count the hours of july sun this way, i really am, but it sounded hilarious to me! and i know how frustrating it could be, i do!
    hope, it gets better. summer is still on.

    1. Why gosh yes, things are getting so much better. If this carries on I won't need my August balaclava after all.

      Thanks for reading!



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