Not absent - still here!
Keep Calm and Carry On Poeming. 😂
Nightfall was premature that evening. Heavy dark clouds still lingered, the air remained humid with none of the fresh cleansing a passing storm should bring. Silent street; he became conscious of the unpleasant sound his rubber soles made on the wet pavement. Street lighting provided little illumination. Missed the turn once and doubled back when he discovered the error. The house numbers were also difficult and it /took several attempts before he was able to identify that the odd numbers were on the other side. Some relief when he found number 19 clearly defined. From his inside coat pocket he retrieved the envelope, extracted the key and let himself in. A surprising warmth as he closed and secured the door behind him. Quick inspection of the rear exit showed a large storage area, anonymous sealed cardboard boxes and tea chests methodically stacked in orderly fashion. Front portion of the house sparsely furnished but tolerable. Living room with two armchairs of indeterminate vintage, a modest pile of paperbacks, small radio and a television which proved to have some life after an experiment involving several knobs and buttons. Bedroom contained a narrow but adequate bed. He investigated the drawers and hanging space, noted sufficient clothing in his size to suggest a stay of no longer than a week. The supplies in the kitchen were basic and of just enough quantity to confirm this.
A front window view from the edge of a heavy curtain confirmed the presence of either a white or silver saloon diagonally opposite occupied by two figures. He was a little surprised that he hadn’t noticed the car on his way there. However the following morning it had been replaced by a green vehicle of similar make and vintage. Reassured, he began to relax. The promise made was, apparently, to be honored.
Within two days he had established a routine. First a test of front and rear doors. Then breakfast. The remainder of the day involved regular checks of news bulletins on both radio and TV. This was his only means of knowing if anything had been discovered or a search was in progress. Incomplete information but it was all he had. His phone had been relinquished at the start of this phase. So far nothing. Between times he mined the book pile and finally settled on a fast paced airport thriller. An easy read, but it barely held his attention. While he felt calm at this point – (there was no retreat, he was beyond any maneuverable options), he found himself compulsively running the last two weeks in his head. The contact, long tortuous negotiations, bargaining, agreement and this, the exit strategy. Was there a flaw? If so, where? Was he dealing with honorable people? Repeatedly he tried to analyze the motivations of the various actors. Money? Yes, in some quantity – fees and of course expenses and inevitable contingencies. Definitely no opportunity to call for tenders. Ideological? Superficially, yes – that was the flag they all flew under. But…but…
Day 5. Usual routine. Check doors front and rear. Breakfast. Window – Green sedan. Nearly halfway through novel – could go no further with no desire to try another. Daytime television facile and irritating. Darkness came early with promise of another storm. Without warning the door buzzer emitted a coded combination of long and short sounds. At last movement…..
-
Author:
Doggerel Dave (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: November 11th, 2021 06:32
- Comment from author about the poem: Written sometime past as a U3A creative writing contribution. Tribute to a certain genre I became obsessed with for a short period many moons ago.
- Category: Short story
- Views: 30
Offline)
Comments4
Very impressed with your writing skill and maturity DD. Yes if there's more i'd like to read it.
If i had bought a book and this were the opening paragraphs then I would already be hooked.
Full marks to you.
Thanks dusk. Life was too full (and difficult at times) to ever consider seriously putting anything into long form (or short form for that matter) writing. And now? Unfinished novel published posthumously? Doubt I’m really that good anyway. Good fun though.
Wow - what a tale and left in suspense too - you have such a gift for holding attention Dave -- I have been on seat-edge reading this build-up and could hardly wait for the end to discover the mystery -- your pen subjects readers to ordinary happenings with short-line tension and that my friend is the mark of a good novelist....... creative writing for sure - sequel now do you think. ?
Thanks for the read, Fay. Not sure I've got the energy for more like that. May have to confine myself to desperately dull doggerel ditties from now on…..
this is very bloomin good DD, very good indeed sir .......................... N
Well I did enjoy myself Nev - so nothing lost.....Thanks for spending time with it.
Always like stories that start in the dark. The dark in itself brings mystery and takes you on that little journey of intrigue. Routine always tells of waiting, and usually more waiting. Then it happens.
Well it was a tribute to a certain kind of thriller - so nothing too original there really, even though the word arrangement, pace and detail are all my own work! Thanks for the read, Paul.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.