Cardiff creaked under the strain of the storm; the banks of
the Taff struggled to contain the affluent river while anything that wasn't
nailed down, and many things that were, were chased down the roads by the
cheeky wind.
Katie battled though the gale; her glasses steamed and her hair straggled by the rain. Her umbrella was tattered and torn like Natalie Imbruglia's heart, and had been laid to rest in a litterbin, that doubled as an umbrella graveyard.
Bute Park was deserted; even the squirrels and magpies were taking shelter from the rain. The trees danced in the wind waving their branches in the air like they just didn’t care. Branches were strewn around the path, evidence of the wind's ruthlessness. Katie squelched along, avoiding the debris both on the ground and in the sky. She should get a medal going to work in this weather; it was a Herculean effort. She wished she hadn't come through the park though, yes it knocked 5 minutes off the journey, but it was far more dangerous and the place was deserted, so if a flying branch did hit her, it might be hours before her bleeding corpse was discovered. She imagined being pecked at by crows hungry after the storm or having squirrels hide their nuts in her… no it didn’t bear thinking about.
But she needn't have worried, she emerged on North Road safe and sound and crossed the street just where a policeman was tidying up workman's barriers that had been scattered in the storm. She was nearly at the Welsh Office now, nearly safe, ready for her commendation. She could almost see them them pinning a medal on her chest, thanking her for her courage beyond the call of duty. Her assembled colleagues would cheer; her line manager would give her the rest of the day off.
Just for a moment the rain had died down, she took the opportunity to take her glasses off and wipe them on her sleeve. Unfortunately without her glasses Katie could hardly see her nose, and that meant that she didn't see the open manhole that until recently had been guarded by red and white barriers, it was hours before her bleeding corpse was discovered.
Katie battled though the gale; her glasses steamed and her hair straggled by the rain. Her umbrella was tattered and torn like Natalie Imbruglia's heart, and had been laid to rest in a litterbin, that doubled as an umbrella graveyard.
Bute Park was deserted; even the squirrels and magpies were taking shelter from the rain. The trees danced in the wind waving their branches in the air like they just didn’t care. Branches were strewn around the path, evidence of the wind's ruthlessness. Katie squelched along, avoiding the debris both on the ground and in the sky. She should get a medal going to work in this weather; it was a Herculean effort. She wished she hadn't come through the park though, yes it knocked 5 minutes off the journey, but it was far more dangerous and the place was deserted, so if a flying branch did hit her, it might be hours before her bleeding corpse was discovered. She imagined being pecked at by crows hungry after the storm or having squirrels hide their nuts in her… no it didn’t bear thinking about.
But she needn't have worried, she emerged on North Road safe and sound and crossed the street just where a policeman was tidying up workman's barriers that had been scattered in the storm. She was nearly at the Welsh Office now, nearly safe, ready for her commendation. She could almost see them them pinning a medal on her chest, thanking her for her courage beyond the call of duty. Her assembled colleagues would cheer; her line manager would give her the rest of the day off.
Just for a moment the rain had died down, she took the opportunity to take her glasses off and wipe them on her sleeve. Unfortunately without her glasses Katie could hardly see her nose, and that meant that she didn't see the open manhole that until recently had been guarded by red and white barriers, it was hours before her bleeding corpse was discovered.
Oh my word! I didn't see that coming.
ReplyDeleteNor did the girl in the story :-)
DeleteMy favourite lines:
ReplyDeleteCardiff creaked under the strain of the storm; the banks of the Taff struggled to contain the affluent river while anything that wasn't nailed down, and many things that were, were chased down the roads by the cheeky wind....The trees danced in the wind waving their branches in the air like they just didn’t care. .... She was nearly at the Welsh Office now, nearly safe, ready for her commendation. She could almost see them pinning a medal on her chest, thanking her for her courage beyond the call of duty. Her assembled colleagues would cheer; her line manager would give her the rest of the day off.