From another, a child. Probably about 4 or 5 years
I'd been busy thinking about my trip to the bank this afternoon, where I had proven my ability to get what I want, although to be honest, I said very little to do that. I'd gone into the bank, which was a miles walk from the office. I'd wanted a transfer of money to another bank account, and when the girl said it would cost me, I said "why?". She explained, so I asked her to close my account. That was all it took for the manager to take me into a little room and do the transfer for free, provided I kept my account open. This was a new experience. I suppose I can be, on occasion, rather frosty, but generally I tend to accept the rules as they lie. I just didn't want to walk another mile down the road, with a cheque in my pocket, then have to wait for the cheque to clear. In the middle of this, the rther sweet salesman from the car dealership called me, and I must have still been in Ice Maiden mode, because he sounded a bit hesitant when I answered. I was sitting on the train, feeling a bit guilty for being a moody cow, especially to the nice salesman, and perhaps slightly to the over-helpful manager of the bank. I didn't mean to be, it just came out that way. The train trundled away from the platform at Sighthill, in Edinburgh. As it passed by some council flats, I took a look in through the windows of the owners, casually. A broad shouldered, tatooed shaved headed man, standing topless in his living room, wearing tracksuit bottoms and holding something that looked like a squigey for a window. old, with long blonde hair, wearing a white tshirt and white shorts and socks and trainers. She was standing by the window, and was climbing out. The window itself was large from the floor upwards, with about a foot at the bottom of fixed glass. I watched her as she climbed out, leaning her feet and legs to the left, and slowly, but surely, making her way out the window. By the time she had passed from sight, she was dangling from the first floor window, by her fingertips. Below her was a little white picket fence, marking out a patch of flowerbed that someone had designated. It changed my thoughts completely. My thoughts on the train. I've not been able to get those thoughts of that little girl out of my head. That little girl in her white t shirt and shorts. I wonder what happened. I've consoled myself with the thought that I couldn't do anything from a moving train, nor could I call anyone, as I don't even know what street that council flat is on. But I wonder tonight, what happened. Did her parent catch her in time? Did she fall? At worst, did she perhaps break a leg or an arm, that will make her feel sorry for herself and hopefully take away her fearlessness? My imagination is running away with me about that white picket fence. Not a very high one, just a cheap one from any DIY store. Imagining crimson red on the white fence, and her white clothes. I shudder to think. You read these stories in the papers, but to see it potentially unfold before your eyes, when there is nothing you can do, and nothing you could have done to prevent it. And to see her, dangling, literally, by her hands, by the edge of her fingers. She was going to jump. I don't think she realised how far it was to the ground below. Yours, retrosec ===== <a href="http://retrosec.blogspot.com/">http://retrosec.blogspot.com/</a> thoughts __________________________________________________ Yahoo! Plus - For a better Internet experience http://uk.promotions.yahoo.com/yplus/yoffer.html +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister@missprint.org. To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to majordomo@missprint.org. WWW: http://www.missprint.org/sinister +-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+ +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "peculiarly deranged fanbase" +-+ +-+ "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000 +-+ +-+ "frighteningly named Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000 +-+ +-+ "sick posse of f**ked in the head psycho-fans" - NME June 2001 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-+ Snipp snapp snut, sa var sagan slut! +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+