Contributor: Paul Tristram
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I was walking down by a stream today (Look it doesn’t fucking matter which stream it was, it was just a stream, alright!) When I decided to take myself a well earned rest upon a vacant wooden bench (Look it doesn’t fucking matter which side of the stream the vacant wooden bench was on, it was just a vacant wooden bench, alright!)
So I sat there for awhile, just carelessly wishing that I had a hammer and a few dozen nails with me because I’ve given up smoking for eight days and every time that I stop still for more than a second my hands become possessed by something, I am serious they start break dancing and signalling to nothing and nobody, they start chopping invisible paper right there before my eyes, not in an exact straight line, in more of a slope?
So the hammer and nails were for me to nail my bastard hands down each side of me, into the wooden bench (Look it doesn’t matter what I would have used to nail the second hand down after the first was securely in place because I would have improvised, used my head or something.
When I noticed a couple sitting down on the bank with their bare feet dangling into the cold, refreshing stream.
The boy turned to the girl and excitedly said, “Look there in the water, it’s something alive and swimming!”
“Where by exactly and what on earth is it?” replied the girl.
“It’s some kind of small fish; it’s a bit like a goldfish, only it’s not gold, it’s thinner and longer and it’s free or something!” replied the boy knowingly.
“My, you are clever!” replied the girl proudly.
“Do you know what Idris? You could be on one of them nature programmes that they have on TV, if you really wanted
to, you know the ones that go and talk about whales and things like that, really close up like, coz I bet you know what a whale is, don’t you Idris?”
“Oh that’s easy!” replied Idris.
“Fucking piece of piss, they’re big fucking things, a bit like a goldfish only bigger and they’re not gold and they eat boats and shit!” replied Idris, still knowingly.
The girl leaned in close and kissed him and then said.
“You are clever Idris, but I do wish you wouldn’t swear like that, especially in public, there’s someone sitting behind us on that wooden bench!”
“Oh, don’t worry about him Samantha!” replied Idris.
“Look he’s not taking a blind bit of notice of us, he’s too busy beating his right hand up with that fence post!”
“Oh yes!” exclaimed Samantha with a sudden distaste in her mouth. (Apparently Idris was having a little trouble with wind)
“Let’s ignore him and try and find that fish again!”
“Ah, there it is!” yelled Idris excitedly, making sure to keep his arse down wind.
“Shall I leap in, you know, just like Tarzan would and wrestle the savage motherfucker up onto the bank?” asked Idris eagerly, he was so eager that he was now half erect.
“No you silly fool, what the hell would you want to do that for?” scowled Samantha.
“Savage motherfucker indeed, the thing’s barely bigger than my thumb, and sit yourself down, for Christ sake, you’re making a spectacle of yourself, you’re all sticking out in the front, oh my God, are you like that over that fish? oh my God, I don’t know what I’m going to do with you, what with the stench coming from your behind aswell!”
“I’m sorry but I can’t help it, I just get carried away sometimes!”
said Idris with a frown, his shorts now back to their normal shape.
And that is how I left them, as I walked off towards home, after still not having smoked, drank or taken any drugs in eight days.
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Paul Tristram is a Welsh writer who has poems, short stories and sketches published in many publications around the world, he yearns to tattoo porcelain bridesmaids instead of digging empty graves for innocence at midnight, this too may pass, yet.
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I was walking down by a stream today (Look it doesn’t fucking matter which stream it was, it was just a stream, alright!) When I decided to take myself a well earned rest upon a vacant wooden bench (Look it doesn’t fucking matter which side of the stream the vacant wooden bench was on, it was just a vacant wooden bench, alright!)
So I sat there for awhile, just carelessly wishing that I had a hammer and a few dozen nails with me because I’ve given up smoking for eight days and every time that I stop still for more than a second my hands become possessed by something, I am serious they start break dancing and signalling to nothing and nobody, they start chopping invisible paper right there before my eyes, not in an exact straight line, in more of a slope?
So the hammer and nails were for me to nail my bastard hands down each side of me, into the wooden bench (Look it doesn’t matter what I would have used to nail the second hand down after the first was securely in place because I would have improvised, used my head or something.
When I noticed a couple sitting down on the bank with their bare feet dangling into the cold, refreshing stream.
The boy turned to the girl and excitedly said, “Look there in the water, it’s something alive and swimming!”
“Where by exactly and what on earth is it?” replied the girl.
“It’s some kind of small fish; it’s a bit like a goldfish, only it’s not gold, it’s thinner and longer and it’s free or something!” replied the boy knowingly.
“My, you are clever!” replied the girl proudly.
“Do you know what Idris? You could be on one of them nature programmes that they have on TV, if you really wanted
to, you know the ones that go and talk about whales and things like that, really close up like, coz I bet you know what a whale is, don’t you Idris?”
“Oh that’s easy!” replied Idris.
“Fucking piece of piss, they’re big fucking things, a bit like a goldfish only bigger and they’re not gold and they eat boats and shit!” replied Idris, still knowingly.
The girl leaned in close and kissed him and then said.
“You are clever Idris, but I do wish you wouldn’t swear like that, especially in public, there’s someone sitting behind us on that wooden bench!”
“Oh, don’t worry about him Samantha!” replied Idris.
“Look he’s not taking a blind bit of notice of us, he’s too busy beating his right hand up with that fence post!”
“Oh yes!” exclaimed Samantha with a sudden distaste in her mouth. (Apparently Idris was having a little trouble with wind)
“Let’s ignore him and try and find that fish again!”
“Ah, there it is!” yelled Idris excitedly, making sure to keep his arse down wind.
“Shall I leap in, you know, just like Tarzan would and wrestle the savage motherfucker up onto the bank?” asked Idris eagerly, he was so eager that he was now half erect.
“No you silly fool, what the hell would you want to do that for?” scowled Samantha.
“Savage motherfucker indeed, the thing’s barely bigger than my thumb, and sit yourself down, for Christ sake, you’re making a spectacle of yourself, you’re all sticking out in the front, oh my God, are you like that over that fish? oh my God, I don’t know what I’m going to do with you, what with the stench coming from your behind aswell!”
“I’m sorry but I can’t help it, I just get carried away sometimes!”
said Idris with a frown, his shorts now back to their normal shape.
And that is how I left them, as I walked off towards home, after still not having smoked, drank or taken any drugs in eight days.
- - -
Paul Tristram is a Welsh writer who has poems, short stories and sketches published in many publications around the world, he yearns to tattoo porcelain bridesmaids instead of digging empty graves for innocence at midnight, this too may pass, yet.
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Paul Tristram
