Wednesday March 7th, 2018

The exercise:

Write about: first aid.

(Work is paying for me to update my first aid training tomorrow)


Greg said...

First aid training definitely sounds like the kind of thing an assassin could make good use of... you can be first on the scene, appear to be doing everything right for the victim, and then gently make sure that they die before any doctors or paramedics get there... that should probably be what I'm writing about today, but I feel like I'd be giving away your trade secrets :-P
Of course, the boring explanation about the council having more work for you fits as well... I see you as Heath Ledger's nurse from the Dark Knight :)

Today, we revisit this: this
In two posts, sorry :(

First aid
The timer pinged to let me know that the apple pie was done, and I pulled it from the oven and set it on the trivet on the counter-top. The pastry was patchily brown -- mum had done something to the oven a few years ago and while she couldn't remember what, it had some odd hotspots in there now. I turned the pie six times in forty minutes, but I still couldn't overcome what felt like sentient vortices of heat playing games with me. The smell was perfect though and made my mouth water, and mum stood up from the kitchen table and admired it briefly.
The doorbell rang.
Mum went off to answer it, while my gaze fell back to the yellowed telegram paper on the table. Surely that had to be an elaborate joke.
There was the sound of running water from upstairs, and the doorbell rang again. "I'm running a bath," called mum, and I wondered for the umpteenth time how she could be so scatterbrained that she could forget she'd been going to answer the door in less than fifteen seconds.
I opened the door with trembling fingers and a cold sweat breaking out on my forehead, irrationally terrified by the idea that Mum's grandfather, a man I'd barely heard of before today, might actually be stood on the doorstep, with luggage probably, expecting... a radically different family? It was a Fed-Ex delivery man, and he gave me a very funny look.
"You look like you need first aid," he said.

Greg said...

"Scary movie evening," I said, controlling a sigh of relief and leaning, only a little shakily, against the doorframe. "You're working late aren't you?"
"Special delivery," said the guy. He had a moustache that was thick and bushy enough that it didn't move when he talked, and long, thick brown hair that cascaded, mane-like, down to mid-shoulder. He made me think of fraggles. "I was about to leave when the manager called me over and said this one had to arrive this evening. Luckily I live a few streets over."
"Thanks," I said, reaching into my pocket for my wallet. I pulled out a twenty, and then remembered the water. "I have to go turn the bath off," I said.
"I'll get it from the truck," said the guy, making the twenty disappear.

Mum hadn't been running the bath but the sink. There was a centimetre of water all over the bathroom floor and mum was in her bedroom looking through her bookshelves. I dropped two towels on the floor, and went back downstairs.

The Fed-Ex guy was just finishing putting a large box in the hallway. That much red-and-yellow packaging hurt my eyes, and I noticed with a little bit of concern that it was taller than me -- it had to be about two metres tall and half-a-metre on the short-sides. The Fed-ex guy must have seen something on my face, because he nodded at it and said, "It's really light. I thought it was going to be trouble, but I could pick it up with one hand if it wasn't so big."
"That's great I said," and I meant it. At least there wasn't a person inside it.

After the Fed-Ex guy left mum reappeared and immediately unwrapped it.
"Ooh," she said, "it's a vanishing cabinet!"
"My grandfather had one," she said. "I'll get the photograph album! He used to put things in it and make them vanish all the time."
Mum went back upstairs, and I had just cut a slice of apple pie when someone -- something? -- knocked on the inside of the cabinet.

morganna said...

The ravine is too
Much for me, I've gashed my leg
Should I call for help?

I'm sure I need first
Aid, perhaps I'll just wrap my
Sock around it now.

Marc said...

Greg - thank you (I think?). Well, I'm not totally sure about the Joker thing, but I'm willing to let that slide since you've manage to continue something from two years ago that you said you would continue at some point. No way I can be unhappy about that!

Oh jeez, you better not take another two years to continue on from here. The whole thing is incredibly captivating and that ending demands to not be left as is for any terrible length of time.

Morganna - ah, still battling onward to freedom I see. I hope that cut doesn't become too serious a problem!