Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 281

Printer-friendly version

Easy As Rambling Vacuously.
by: Bonzi cat 'n her.
part:281

I heard Simon get up, break wind, and go in the shower. I was trying to decide whether I would properly wake up, or go back to sleep. I assumed it was about six o'clock and wondered how he managed to stay awake all day on so little sleep.

I felt him standing and looking at me, then he bent down to kiss me and I reached up and grabbed him. He was so surprised he fell on top of me. Having about fourteen stone land on top of my unexpecting body was traumatic to say the least. On the action replay it would be interesting to see who actually 'oofed' the loudest, it could well have been me.

The shock over, we both started to laugh. "I thought you were asleep," he said.

"An' I thought I'd say goodbye in style."

"You certainly caught me napping."

"No it was me who was napping, you were supposed to be awake."

"Nah, I only wake up after I get to work."

"Isn't that a bit dangerous, driving a car while under the influence of Morpheus?"

"Nah, if you can have sleeping policemen, why not dozing drivers?"

I couldn't fault his logic, except to say it was total rubbish, and at this time of the morning my own might be somewhat suspect as well. I said nothing.

"As you are awake, you coming down for a cuppa?" he asked.

"If you loved me you'd bring it up to me," I said pouting.

"The corollary of that is also true."

I opened my eyes widely, how had he managed to say that? I can't get my mind around it let alone my mouth. "Coro-lory, nah that's not right. Coal-lorry, nah, colliery, oh bugger! I can't say it."

"It matters not, come with me and I shall make thee a cuppa of the most splendid tea, a blend of exotic and endotic leaves, lovingly put together by craftsmen and women, for you to enjoy the subtleties of the different flavours all merging on your tongue, giving your tastebuds an orgasmic experience of the most divine sort."

"Simon, I just wanna cuppa of rosie-lea, 'kay." I said in my best estuarine English, Essex girl woulda been praad ommeee.

"One cuppa rosie comin' up luv," he said as he went through the door.

After wrestling with my conscience for five minutes - I don't know why I bother, it always fights dirty and wins - I got out of bed and thought I ought to go and see him off. I pulled on my dressing gown, a good velour one, it's still winter you know, and went down.

He was eating some toast and marmalade, it smelt good so I popped some bread in the toaster while he poured me a cup of tea.

"So you're going to call by and see Stella?"

"Simon, don't nag me, that's role reversal, I'm supposed to nag you, remember?"

"Oh okay, I didn't realise I was nagging."

"Well you do now."

"If you say so. I just wanted to know if you would go and see her today."

"What did I say last night?" jumping as the toast popped up alogside me.

"Ha, you jumped!"

"I know I did," I think I may have dripped in my pants too, but that was too much info for him. "You didn't answer my question."

"What question?"

"Simon, please get both brain cells to focus on what I am saying."

"Do I have to?"

"Yes dear, I shall be asking questions later to see if you were listening."

"I'm all ears," he said.

"So Noddy said," I couldn't resist it.

"What?"

"Big Ears and Noddy," I offered.

"What are you on about? Just go and see Stella, or else."

"Or else what?" I stood with my hands on my hips and glared at him.

"Or else I'll nag you."

"Arrrgghhhhhhhh! If you do, I shall start calling you, Simone."

"Je t'aime when you talk French, mon amour."

"Eh!" he was getting stranger by the moment.

"Eh bien!"

"Voulez vous a punch on the nose?" I said to him in best schoolgirl Froglaise.

"Non mademoiselle,"

"Parle Anglaise, then!"

"Okay, okay, don't shoot." He stood with his hands up in the air.

"Well don't nag then."

"Just go and..." I threw a piece of toast at him, "Oi, watch it, that's greasy, this suit cost a fortune."

I picked up my remaining pieces of toast and my tea and went back up to bed. He sat there speechless. Nobody tells me who I can and can't throw toast at! What is this world coming to, when the rights of people to throw toast are undermined. I mean it's actually mentioned in the worldwide declaration of human rights, supposedly upheld by the UN, part three b, subsection eight hundred and forty seven, paragraph four, line nine. 'It is the right of all men and women and some children, to throw toast at whomsoever they please. Failure to uphold or enact this statute could result in heavier items like jars of Marmite or marmalade being thrown instead.' See the UN know what they are doing, sometimes!

I sat in bed eating and drinking, my pre-breakfast snack. Hang on, if this was food, which as far as I'm aware toast is, then this would be breaking my fast, or break-fast. Damn, I'd have to have my cornflakes as elevenses. I'm sure all this thinking was rotting my brain. I go to university to think, I surely don't have to do it at home as well, do I?

If I answered that, I would be.

I switched off the light and cuddled back under the covers. I heard Simon start his car and drive off. I did miss him, I'd have to try and dilate later, before things shrank any further. I didn't relish it one bit.

I heard the front door slam, and looked at the clock, about eight forty five, that must be Tom off to work. I tried to go back to sleep, but the thought of having to dilate ws so daunting that I couldn't. I got up and ran a bath, and took my plastic bullets with me into the bathroom. I wondered if being warm and relaxed would feel any easier.

It didn't, but making love to a piece of plastic in the bath meant I was expanding my life experiences. Well you never know when you may have to use such expertise, or write my memoirs.

I got dressed, pulling on my pants very gingerly. I'm not sure if anything expanded, except my mind, because everything else hurt rather a lot! Much more of this and I would probably need a mallet.

I pottered about in the morning, made an appointment to see my GP later that day, did some washing -how come men use so many clothes, when they don't actually look as if they've changed them for a month? Answers on a postcard etc etc.

Finally after a light lunch, I went off to see my future sister in law. I sat in the car wondering if this was a good idea, it wasn't mine. I had to remember that, if she freaked or killed me, it wasn't my idea, it was Simon's.

A shower of rain started and I sat in the car until it passed by, about fifteen minutes. Reluctantly, I got out of my nice warm little car and grabbing the flowers I'd bought, well there were none in her room, I walked to the door.

Getting in was easy, I walked to the room we'd been to before and she was asleep in the chair. She looked so comfortable, I sat down quietly and watched her sleeping. Then my eyes got heavy and....

I awoke with a start, the door had banged or something and she was gone! Where were my car keys? Oh no!

up
143 users have voted.
If you liked this post, you can leave a comment and/or a kudos! Click the "Thumbs Up!" button above to leave a Kudos

Comments

Oops!

All hell's out for lunch now!

BTW, I always thought you went to the university to rot your brain, learning all the leftist rubbish and stuff.

Karen J.

"Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose"
Janis Joplin


"Life is not measured by the breaths you take, but by the moments that take your breath away.”
George Carlin

Oh no, you didn't...

I quickly scrolled up and read the last few lines again. *sigh* She did. She wrote yet another cliff hanger.

Now, when the night shift come on, it'll be a new person, that will KNOW Cathy is really Stella, so she won't be able to convince anyone that there was a mixup until morning. Unless she still has her cell phone, maybe...

Of course MAYBE Stella's just in the Loo and Cathy locked her keys IN her car.

Fun episode. I have NO intention of writing Cathy's memoirs, you're doing quite a fine job all by your self. :-)

Thanks,

Annette

P.S. I have it on great authority that Teddy's are the most robust of authorized projectiles. Thrown with sufficient anger, they are quite capable of breaking glasses.

Well, Cathy is off on

Well, Cathy is off on another adventure. Hopefully she can get Stella back to the hospital without a lot of trouble for her and everyone else. J-Lynn

So, The Big Question Is...

has Stella made a run for it, or is she just ransacking the car looking for something suitable for braining Cathy, like a nice tire iron?

Oh, dear. Either way, it's going to take a bit more than money to keep the poor dear from getting sectioned.

It's supposed to be a secure facility, which makes one wonder how she would get out. Also, if she's doped up, that's going to impair her driving, which if we remember, wasn't that sharp to start with, so she's likely to end up in the ditch, if that's the course she took.

But, perhaps she's just doing something less dramatic to make a point. Like flushing the keys down the loo.

oh me oh mi

Is stella to high to drive?While I'd like to see a happy ending for Cathy,Simon,Stella and all involved that seems to be getting further and further away.Hopefully you've simply mis interpretted the meowish.Amy

Well, Maybe Stella Has Just

Gone to the loo. We will have to wait to see.
May Your Light Forever Shine

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

Oh I don't believe this . . .

First I find them speaking French--or at least something which in most circles would pass for it then Cathy got all feminine with her logic. I have to ask what you were taking when you wrote this Ang and whether it's available on the open market (shop names in a PM please). Next thing I know, Stella's done a runner. What is this world coming to?

I think I need something stronger than coffee, but since it's all I have, it's going to have to do--until Ang's drugs come through that is.

Yours,

confused of Dorset (for the time being)

Jessica
I'm not bad. I'm just drawn that way.

Oh, SHIT

Nothing to do with Cathy, Saw a special on Evita Perone, It changed how I now look at her, And the horrors that were committed on her embalmed body for30yrs " Don't cry for me Argentina"
By now Stella could be half-way through the chunnel on the way to Paris They'd never find a mad woman there, she'd blend in.

Cefin