The Incident

By the time I had arrived there was an entire crowd around him.  "What happened?" I inquired.  The stranger standing next to me turned and looked at me.  "Someone has taken his pulse."  I was shocked; something like this happening right here on the street.  What was this World coming to?

 

"Who would do such a thing?" I asked.  "Someone said it was a lady dressed as a Nurse."   I realized that I had asked too many questions, people were turning around and looking at me as if I might have something to do with all this.  Just then the stranger next to me asked, "Where you from, anyway?  I haven't seen you around here before."

 

"I'm from Smithereens."    He looked at me disbelieving.   "Well you must have been born there Pal.  Nobody goes there on purpose.   I was sorry I walked up to this crowd.  I wanted to slink away, go about my business.   Just then another voice - from my left asked,  "Hey, what's that you've got there?"

 

"It's an Inkling."   "Yea, well what are you doing with that?  Are you supposed to have that?"  Quickly the first stranger chimed in again but this time in a much louder voice.  "You can't have that out here.  What do you think you're doing?"  Now the entire crowd had turned and changed their focus from the man on the pavement to me.  "It's just an Inkling."   Then even the man lying on the pavement propped himself up onto one elbow and spoke up.  "I bet he has a Notion as well." 

 

I was beginning to panic.  I looked across the street and saw Peril Drugs.  I couldn't believe it.  I was in Peril.  I must have gotten onto the wrong bus.   I pulled the ticket stub from my shirt pocket.  SAVE THIS TICKET, was all it said.   "You got on the wrong bus, didn't you?"  I looked up.  It was a red-head in heavy make-up.  A smoking cigarette hanging from her lips bobbed up and down as she spoke.  "Yes."  I replied.  Holding up the ticket I said,  "This was supposed to be a one way ticket to Palookaville."

 

"What's your name, Honey?"  she asked.  "Chump.  My name is Chump." 

 

"Well Chump, I'm Floozy.  You can call me Ethel. Let's get you off the street."

 

"I could use a cup of Joe, Ethel." 

 

"You married, Chump?"

 

"No.  No I'm not.  You?"

 

"Divorced Honey.  I made really bad coffee.  But don't worry, we'll go to the Café ."

 

"Your husband divorced you because of your coffee?"

 

"That's right, Chump.   One sip and the Judge knew it was grounds for divorce."

 

I knew I was in Peril but I would follow this Floozy to the Café and have my cup of Joe.  Then I would work on this Inkling I had.  The only thing going for me was that fact that it was Friday.   

What could possibly go wrong on a Friday? 

 

 

 

Note: 

The above piece is simply me practicing, you know – if I played the  euphonium or oboe  I’d pick it up and play around with it.  Not everything would sound wonderful or in-tune.   Well it’s the same for writing.  These are just a few left over notes that I had bouncing about the room.  I’ll try not to do this too often.