There’d been a number of break-ins at our flat over recent weeks, none of which had triggered our burglar alarm. We were sure, however, that it was just matter of time before we would walk in on the culprit(s). When TPR hushed me in the hall and told me to stand guard at the sitting room door, I knew that the time had come to uncover the identity of our intruder.
TPR took the route through kitchen to the sitting room. There he found our intruder sitting comfortably on our big green sofa, gently strumming on an acoustic guitar. The big surprise was that this person who had trespassed into our flat was not a stranger. We knew O from a few years earlier when he had trained at the same gym as us. O was well-known for his alternative lifestyle, but we had no idea that he made a habit of making himself comfortable in his friends’ houses when everyone else was out at work.
TPR demanded that O leave immediately. As I shut front door behind him, I knew that our friendship was over forever.
Mystery solved, it was time to put the kettle on. As part of the celebration I unwrapped two triangular boxes of chocolates left over from Christmas. TPR took the larger box (coffee-flavoured) and I settled down to work my way through the smaller one (Russian caramel). Then our friend Laura called by so we invited her to join us a for a cup of tea in the sitting room.
I was just about to interrupt a conversation about headlice (with a question about the stray chocolates and peanuts that I had found hidden under the small sofa cushions), when we heard a noise outside the window. O had returned to the flat bearing a huge bouquet of flowers. We had made it clear to him earlier that he was no longer welcome so we ignored him when he rang the bell. If he left the flowers behind, we would pick them up from the front door later. He eventually got the message and left.
Later that afternoon the weather changed and it became very windy. When I opened the back door to see if there was any damage to the trees I was swept up into sky. At first it was a wonderful to fly through the air and look down on everyone’s gardens, but then I realised I had no idea how to return to the ground. TPR tried to rescue me, but he ended up in the same position. It was only when the wind dropped that we were able to return to our own garden.
Here we sat on the grass with some of our neighbours, including AS, JS and their children, and ET-S. It was such a relief that the wind had dropped, but now we faced another danger. It was raining tree resin! We rushed indoors before it did us any harm. Unfortunately it was too late for some. My mother-in-law ingested so much resin that we had to drag her stiff, paralysed body back into the house. The resin’s effect on TPR was to transform him into a young black woman with memory loss.
Soon afterwards a policeman came to the door. He announced that everyone knew that I was the one responsible for all the strange happenings of the day and immediately arrested me. I would surely pay for this with a long stretch in prison.
Dreamaticus 