NB The url for this site has now changed, PERMANENTLY, to www.boobpencil.co.uk.

Thursday, February 23, 2006

No Return - Part 1

(Intro)

I had it all sussed. I was summoned to York, late on a Sunday afternoon. Perfect. I dressed in black.

As Felix and I pulled around the corner, I held my breath. What if it'd been flattened already? A fortnight is a long time in the demolition trade. But no, it was intact. Phew.

But oh. Er... Ah. The front door, so helpfully open two weeks ago, was closed. I hadn't planned for this.

I hung around later than usual at my parents' house, wondering all the while whether I was about to risk my neck getting over a security fence, only to find myself pacing the outside of a locked school.

It was 10:17pm when I parked by the gate. There was a woman walking her dog. I pretended to be rooting through my handbag. She passed.

I fretted about the weather. It was freezing cold, and my clothing had been chosen on the basis of colour, not warmth. There was an old baby blanket on the back seat. Maybe I could wrap it around my middle. Hmmm, yes, fine, but how to stop it falling off? No safety pins in my handbag. Just an iPod... ah yes. I took the earphones and used the cord to tie the blanket. Good. Snug as a bug in a rug.

The dog-walking woman reappeared. And peered. At me. I rooted in my handbag again. She went away.

I sat there and looked at the fence. It was very dark. There were no people. Was I really going to do this? The gap I'd originally spotted looked suddenly narrower. What if I got stuck?

No, I had to do it. I'd dressed up specially. I had to do it.

I locked the driver's side door, so I could exit on the pavement.

Uh-oh. I forgot about the locks. They're broken. You can't open them from the inside. Fucking hell, had I really got this close and then locked myself in the bloody car?

Maybe one of the back doors would work. I clambered over the seat, tried the door... phew.

I opened it and sat with my feet on the ground outside. Right. Time to go. In a minute.

I sat some more. There was no way I could squeeze through that gap. This was stupid. I felt such an idiot sitting there in the back of my own car with my bum on the seat and my feet on the tarmac. If anyone came down the street now, I'd look very odd.

A man came around the corner. Oh bollocks. I'd have to get out.

I walked off in the opposite direction, checking the hedge for gaps. The man walked on. I went back to the car. Maybe I could crawl under the fence. Oh no, hang on. There was a small linking section, shorter than the others. Pathetically easy to climb.

I was over it in seconds.

Blimey!


(Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5)

 

1 Comments:

Clare said...

It took half an hour for the experience to happen, and two and a half hours to document it (there's a profound observation hiding somewhere in those statistics).

The result was a bit unwieldy, so I've split it.

11:54 PM  

Post a Comment

<< Home

I'm a little flower, short and stout...