A fraction of fiction for some Friday fun:
Down The Drain
I almost missed it. It was hidden behind a lavender bush and I only noticed it because I stopped to watch a rock band crowd of bees going crazy about a bush full of purple flowers. I was feeling bored so I went to see what it was.
It was the opening to a pipe, wide enough for me to stand up in. It smelled like cats. Far down in the darkness there was a reddish glow. Pushing aside the thought of What Happened To The Curious Cat, I walked down the pipeline towards the dim light.
As I drew closer, I could hear a jangling noise like a prison warden’s keys. There was a bend in the pipe where the glow was brightest. I stopped at the corner, my eyes drawn to contorted, dancing shadows on the pipe wall.
The jangling was louder and I could hear humming, not particularly tuneful but certainly enthusiastic.
I peered around the corner.
It was a wide open space and in the centre was a pile of rear bicycle lights providing the red glow. On one side of the room was a collection to rival the world’s greatest flea market. Piles of cans, old newspapers, dog collars, tennis balls, roller skates and the unidentifiable. Oh, and money. Piles and piles of coins of every denomination.
I was so busy staring at the money that I didn’t notice the jangling and humming had stopped. The silence soon made its way down my ear canal and it was then I noticed the small figure on the other side of the room.
It was only about a metre tall with shiny green skin. It was wearing an odd assortment of clothing of the kind even the poor don’t want – a dirty singlet, threadbare shorts and a pair of bright pink plastic sandals. Around its neck were a dozen necklaces and it was wearing an unusually large pair of sunglasses. I thought it was wearing an elaborate hat but as I looked closer, the ‘hat’ was multiple pairs of glasses – sunglasses, reading glasses and even a pair of swimming goggles. On each finger (three on each hand) was a ring, three with diamonds, two with sapphires and one with an enormous opal. In its left hand was a large stick and attached to the stick were bunches and bunches of car keys.
It was staring at me.
Fear was telling my legs to run but curiosity told them to stay. I waved my hand in what I hoped was a friendly manner, feeling stupid but unsure of what else to do.
The creature gave its stick a shake and then it walked over to a small opening at the back of the room, turned and beckoned for me to follow.
I read books. I like mystery books best. I’ve never understood why the characters in the books continually put themselves into dangerous situations. Everybody knows you don’t try and open a locked door, you don’t get out of bed to investigate weird noises at night and you never, ever follow strange creatures down dark passageways. It’s just asking for trouble.
I turned and ran.
And I spent the rest of the day being happily bored.
What’s the strangest thing you’ve ever lost down a drain?