Written by Monochrome
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Thursday, 22 September 2005

image for Perfect Day Dreaming of Tom

It was the same day that I’d been woken at about 3am by a bat flying around my bedroom.
I’d been dreaming about searching for the actor, Tom Selleck whom I eventually found living in a caravan in a remote field. I was somewhere in the no-man’s land between sleep and wakefulness, when I became aware of something, a presence, in the room.
Why is it that when it’s dark we are still six years old and believe that if we pull the covers up over our head everything will be alright? Well, everything was alright, apart from the intermittent whirring noise about three inches above my bed. After what seemed hours, the noise subsided and taking my cowardice in both hands I reached out an arm to turn on the bedside lamp. The bat, who had by now grown bored, had stopped flying and was gripping the edge of one of the curtains. I staggered to the bathroom and grabbed a towel in which I picked up the tiny, fragile, creature and ejected it out of the window.
It was raining when the alarm woke me at 6.00 am. I crawled from my bed groaning and exhausted at 6.45 already late and with no time for breakfast I left the house.
Birmingham is a horrible place. Birmingham is hell when it’s cold and raining and on this particular morning, I was on my way to a meeting in Birmingham. The A14 is a horrible road. The A14 is hell when it’s cold and raining and on this particular morning, I was on the A14 and on my way to Birmingham. I pulled into the outside lane to overtake a truck and looking in my rear view mirror I noticed a speck on the distance horizon. Two seconds later I looked again and the speck had become a Mercedes C320 which was now approximately 0.5 millimetres from the rear of my car. “In a hurry?” I mused and gently braked as the traffic slowed.
A three ton Mercedes hitting the back of your car at speed makes a very loud bang. My head hit hard against the aptly named head restraint and I swore.
I got out of the car and strode towards the Mercedes which now had steam billowing from its broken front. A middle aged fat man in the driving seat was just recovering from the shock of being hit in the face by his air bag and was frantically phoning for help. “I’m glad to see you walking away from that.” He said nodding towards my wrecked Peugeot.
I don’t remember exactly how I replied but it involved me asking him just what he thought he was doing by carelessly driving into the back of me and how would he like to step out of the car and allow me to beat him to death.
“Get out of the road! You’ll be killed! He shouted.
I questioned his sudden desire for my safety when seconds before he had nearly killed me. He persisted in waving his arms around and shouting his concern for my welfare until a police patrol car arrived. We exchanged insurance details and found that although Mr. Merc’s car was immobile, I could drive mine home. I waved and smiled for the first time that day as I left him waiting for a tow.
I returned home nursing a headache and stiff neck which would remain with me for several days. I opened the door to kitchen and paddled into what seemed like an ocean of water; the washing machine! I’d meant to unblock that drain the previous weekend!
It was midday by the time I’d cleared the mess, fixed the drain and got myself a sandwich and a cup of tea. I sat down to enjoy my food but fell into a fitful sleep almost instantly.
It was dark when I awoke. My neck was even stiffer from sleeping in the chair and my head was bursting. I was cold; the heating wasn’t on for some strange reason and I swore as I flicked the light switch only to remain in darkness. I tried another light with the same result and looking out of the window noticed that the whole street was in total darkness. A power cut. I became aware of an urgent knock at my door which I realised was what had woken me and I opened it to my neighbour who told me that my burglar alarm had been ringing since the power went off several hours previously. I looked in the direction of the sound and nodded.
“Oh” I said. “Yeah I’ll sort it out.”
“Are you OK?” he asked glancing towards my car.
“Fine.” I replied closing the door. “I’ll see to the alarm now.”
I disconnected the battery from my alarm, took two paracetemol, returned to my chair and went back to sleep.
I woke again some time later to the sound of my doorbell ringing. With my neck even stiffer, my head pounding and realising that the power had returned, I shielded my eyes from the blinding light as I opened the door to my now rather angry looking neighbour.
“It’s going off again!” He shouted. “Do you know what time it is?”
“No.” I replied truthfully. “What’s going off?” I looked in the direction of the sound and nodded.
“Oh.” I said. “Yeah I’ll sort it out.”
“Are you OK?” he asked glancing towards my car.
I hesitated. “Do you ever get déjà vu?” I asked closing the door. “I’ll see to the alarm now.”
I took the fuse from the alarm and decided to go to bed. I took two more paracetamol and tried to sleep. Isn’t it amazing how sometimes that you can be unbelievably tired but still can’t sleep? The events of the day were playing over and over again in my mind like bad horror film until I decided to get up and make myself a hot drink. I stumbled down the stairs in the dark, not wanting to turn on the light to save my eyes from the glare. I fumbled for the kettle, filled it and switched it on only to discover that the power cut had returned. I cursed my luck and after trying a light switch to confirm my fears, I fell into the nearest chair and slept.
It was still dark when I awoke at 3 am. The pain in my head and neck now almost unbearable, I took two more paracetamol and went upstairs to bed where I finally fell into a deep sleep.
It was raining when the alarm woke me at 6.00 am. I’d been dreaming about searching for the actor, Tom Selleck whom I eventually found living in a caravan in remote field.

The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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