Candle In The Window

First Spuds © David Forward

By Lorenzo

The new potatoes were boiled then eaten, now dressed in my Sunday Best, I set forth unto the town, from whence no one came, except Jackdaws. I passed the pretty little blue eyed Karen of Watchfield, as she was slowly walking down Abbey Row from the King’s Church.

A detour, towards the clock tower and its round the bend mirror, I hadn’t looked in one for several months and I now wondered if people would still recognise me. It didn’t crack so I assumed not.

Then came the roaring twenties, no no, it’s the top end of the High Street and its 20 mile per hour zone. On Saturdays, it can sometimes even take up to an hour for a break in the traffic to be able to cross from one side of the road to the other and reach the Summer Café.

Now I was gaining speed down Oxford Street, ready to ‘side step’ anyone tumbling out of the Boroughs or the Guild. I was lucky, no Willie John McBride today. I kicked for touch and entered the museum.

Ted Palmer was already in the blood bin and Robert Maclachlan was just taking to the field as tight head lock, so I blew for a penalty. Up pops Gordon Williams, well what did you expect.

I had now been expelled from Athelstan’s junk rooms and sent to the sin bin, head bowed down in shame, I kicked the Tolsey gates in anger and slunk into the South Porch and took my deserved place on the sin bin pews. A voice from no where bawled out, “What Now Forward,” it was Neill Archer, he threw the book at me, he was cross, the book had one on it too.

Ten Minutes were up, out of the Apostles’ Tunnel I ran, past the Old Timers in the Bell Hotel, tick tock, tick tock, they chattered like sheep shearers shears. I was now in Mission Walk Mode, arms at full swing, left right, left right, left right, attention.

Into the Co-operative I ventured where the self service machine was not going to co-operate and ordered me to wait in the packaging area. Luckily for me I was recognised by Andrew Woodcock and he immediately ejected me from the building.

Dejected and worn out I began to crawl on all fours along Park Road, taking advantage of my desperate situation, I started searching for ants to eat for my supper.

Then out of the Blue Sky Field backing onto a White Lion Cloud, there came trundling along a most mysterious looking vehicle. First of all I thought of the Google camera cars, but no, nothing like one. Maybe an old television detector van with its dummy aerial, it unable to even revolve.

Got it, of course, it was Sunday Simon in the Residents Association brand new Supermarket Detector Mobile and that strange box like object on its roof, obviously contained a prone Kim Power peeping out of a tiny little hole at the front.

Well blow me down, it’s not often you get lucky enough to see one of those drive straight on by. Then I realized, I was now a marked man for the rest of my life, the whole world would be downloading images off the inter-webs of Lorenzo holding a Co-op plastic bag full of ants, and down on his knees in the gutter.

I began to lick the double yellow lines, they needed a touch up. Then Miss Ashcroft came by and seeing my plight, she took pity on my ragged soul, spoke some very nice kind words, and took me home to her place for prayers.

I had seen Kim’s Power Switch in her Big Black Box, and I had now seen Karen’s Lights too, I had even seen Simon’s Kill Switch down the lane, and now all I wanted, was to wake up from this torturous dream, and take the plunge into the Ingleburn Brook.