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I wrote this short story last night.
I hope you like it.
In our gadgety kitchen there hangs a calendar belonging to my overweight landlady, Jodie. It’s decorated with hunky male nudes. I suppose it’s useful, being the nearest thing she has to a diary or a boyfriend. It certainly improves the scenery in an otherwise pretty boring workroom. Jodie notes down whatever means something to her. I usually glance at the entries and, occasionally, wish I had been there.
Today, in the box for June 29th, I noticed this entry:
“I wish I wasn't there.”
‘Why on earth didn’t she say that?’ I wondered.
Jodie surfaced for her breakfast and I was able to ask about the calendar entry.
‘Where did you go on 29th of June?’
‘Please don’t remind me.’ Her expression became strained as Jodie busied round pouring muesli and orange juice. ‘I thought I was going to Zak Melody‘s Last Tour concert. It was a catastrophe. I had looked forward to it for nearly a year and it turned out to be one of the worst experiences of my life. You probably saw the news reports.’
It rang a bell. I’d seen something but Zak Melody was such a ‘has been’ that I’d switched my attention to visiting the loo.
‘I got to the venue early so I could watch the celebrities arrive and while I was waiting it started to drizzle with rain. I’d had my hair done but you know my barnet. It turns into a bush as soon as it gets damp. I was really disappointed about the drizzle. Supposing Zak looked at me. I’d die if he saw me looking like the wild man of Borneo.’
‘Oh poor you,’ I sympathised. Well, I did feel sorry for her. Her hair is like rusty wire wool.
She continued, ‘I was right against the barrier so it was difficult to manoeuvre out. I started saying “excuse me” and putting up with loud comments like “Why? What you done?” and “Give her a lot of room”, but, near tear point, I persevered and was just fighting my way towards the ticket point when I slipped on the wet pathway. I fell forward, knocking into a couple in front of me. The girl screamed and her partner turned his fury on me. I was just apologising profusely when a cheer went up. There were screams and hoots as a big car swished to a halt. I stretched and craned my neck but I couldn’t see a thing.’
‘I bet you were mad,’ I chipped in.
‘I was furious but there was worse to come. I had my ticket ready and held it out happily as I went to go in. To my shock, the man at the entrance said, “You’ve got the date wrong, Luv.” Don’t laugh! He was right. My ticket was dated 29th July. I’d been through all that for nothing. My only consolation is that the concert hasn’t happened yet.’
‘Aw, Jodie,’ I commiserated. ‘It could only happen to you.’
Thank you for reading!