Checking if gravity really is a ‘thing’

“I want to do something more exciting, more dangerous, something that makes you wonder whether you’ll be alive at the end of the day. And then you know you’ve stared at Death and laughed in his face.”
Daisy: “And is accountancy not doing that for you?”

Not going out


The alarm went off at six thirty. Up and and showered, with tuneless singing. Changed, downstairs and got breakfast for both of us. I opened the door and brought it in on a tray. Sadly, the only one I could find had a crocodile on it,

“It’s time to get up.”

A muffled voice from deep within the pillow. “No it’s not.”

“It’s nearly seven o’clock.”

She grunted and didn’t move. “You cannot be late.”

She wiggled her behind. “You watch me.”

I left the tea and toast by the bed, fed the rabbit and deliberately made more noise than was necessary as I got ready. By the time I came back from a shower she was sat up bed, eating.

“Hey. You OK?”


“What’s the matter?”

“I’ve hurt myself.”

“What? How?”

“It wasn’t my fault.” She held out her wrist. “It really hurts.”

“How did you do it?” It was red and looked a little swollen.

“You know I was drunk?”

“I may have noticed.”

“When they left last night, I thought they were leaving without saying goodbye.”


“Well, I ran across the dancefloor, tripped, put my hand down and hurt myself.” She winced as I touched her wrist.

“Hang on a minute.”

On the landing was a first aid kit. Three plasters and a bandage inside. And the bandage was about three miles long, but it would do.

“If it’s not better later, I will take you down the hospital.”

“It will be fine.” She winced. “It hurts. It was so embarrassing. I did it right in front of the bar. Everyone saw me.”

“And how is it not your fault?”

“I thought they were just going.”

She got up and got herself dressed with difficulty. I met her at lunch and even painkillers didn’t help.

So straight from work and back to hospital.

“I can’t believe I’m back here again.”

“At least last time they made a big fuss and there were flashing lights introducing you.”

We went through the excitement of X-rays and then sat waiting to be called. The Doctor came out. He had hair in a pony tail and and a watch the size of a grandfather clock on his wrist.

“Hi come in, please sit down.” He waited for a moment, clearly for dramatic effect.

“We have looked at the pictures and you have fractured your wrist. Don’t worry, we will put a cast on it.”

“How long will it need to be on for?”

“Probably six weeks.”

“Will I be able to fly? We’re going on holiday in few days.”

The Doctor made a face. “I’m not sure…”

“Please. Is there nothing you can do?”

“OK. Well we could put a removable cast on. You just….”

“Perfect. Thank you so much.”

We went through and waited. A big lady came through wearing a uniform that was bursting at the seams. She put the cast on.

“This is really uncomfortable.”

“You only have to wear it during the day.”


She moaned about it all the time. Until she saw all the extra attention it gave her, then it seemed ok.

And as they asked, the story become more outrageous, bearing no resemblance to the truth.




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