| Invitation : We are kindly welcoming you to joining our Virtual Story Desk , eventually share your stories from the depths of your soul and beyond, narrated by the infamous Mr. K. Let’s start ….. Here is the concluding part. Enjoy and expand . Don’t be shy. It’s only words. Therefore, email us on : info@womensculturalarena.org.uk |
| 40 years pet free Sahrah opened the flimsy curtains to her 6th floor flat, anonymous concrete in the newly built upgrade in south of the City. It was cold, grey ,damp and reassuringly real as she saw the children out earlier in the park to the west. The yapping dogs chasing the youngsters around the swings reminded Sahrah of her first pets from her constructive “normal” upbringing. Coby the Alsatian, and his mischievous sidekick Wispa, they were as thick as thieves Sahrah fondly reminisced to her third cup of coffee of the slate grey morning. Sahrah sadly recalled the day Coby got sick, her mum and herself took him to see Mr Pritchard, the stout ,middle aged old school type. “A stomach complication, Mrs Jenkinson ” he confidently diagnosed. He prescribed a dose of medication in the shape of huge tablets, which were to be crushed into his food three times a day, he emphatically told Sahrah and her mum. “OH I will send the Invoice in the post next week”, he solemnly confirmed as we lead poor Coby of the overcrowded veterinary surgery. Coby’s ball boys The local gang of lads, loved to tease the animals, whilst they patrolled the streets and playgrounds of Bleakside. Sahrah recalled how Coby has his beloved ball coaxed away by 15 year old troublesome Dominic Reagen. Waiting faithfully outside the Co -Dep local shops one Saturday in November. Joe Mackinn, another wide boy from the dark-side, distracted Coby with “treats”, which gave Reagen the chance to prod Coby with a stick and drag his ball away. Sahrah jolted out of her reverie wondering in an absent way about what might have become of the pair of rogues who tormented her beloved pet. Sahrah rumbled through the draws and personal belonging until she found what she had forgotten for many years. “Here it is, I knew mum did not burn it with all the family pictures shortly before she died”, Sahrah explained to the empty room. She put Bertie’s letter on the side of the chair, whilst poured herself her first drink of the day. Wispa on the fence Sahrah recalled how Wispa teased Coby in the little garden in Bleakside South, standard lawn ,anonymous fence panels all the way around the perimeters. Wispa could negotiate the fence panels in her sleep, skirting all around the neighbourhood, looking for scraps of food ,Mrs D from no 45 always had treats for Wispa, the cream from the milk was nearly always available. Meal times were difficult as Coby only seemed to eat when Wispa was around. He started losing his weight and appetite. Poor Coby only had his trusted football to keep himself occupied during the day while the Jenkinsons were at work or school. Sahrah recalled her dads advice about keeping pets in the city, on reflection he was probably correct she sadly admitted to herself, as she lit up another cigarette whilst remorseful recently starring out the window. THE NOTE Sahrah poured herself another stiff drink, well it was 4pm,no harm done, another long lonely night to agonise over, she convinced herself. She open the flap on the envelope with an increasingly shaking hand and anticipation. The note, fading and foreboding on sepia paper sent a chill down her skinny back, as she challenged to bring Bertie’s note to life. With another cigarette in hand she read the message. “Like I said Missy, I hope you would never need to open this here poorly hand written scrawl. I knows them pets would give you hope and regret. They came into your life, thanks to you dear mother Missy Margot. She did this as a replacement for the void left by your departed father Joe and Brother Neil. The pets got sick and ran away ,did they not Missy? I knew in my heart my dear, the pain you have ,even with my wisdom cannot comfort you in your time of need and hope.. Although there Missy Sahrah ,there is hope, although your dear father was correct about pets ,girlie wasn’t, he? Trust me when I say, the answer to your turmoil, is shared by many others. Locked far away, far ..far.. away from where you might be now in distant Yang City, there is a saviour. A puppet with a frown, go and find him ,trace his whereabouts, but remember to take that scarf of your mother with you always. But remember, “If this is confusing news, just find Mr.K in his tap dancing shoes”. Yours forever Missy Sahrah. From Old Bertie Sands.” Sahrah’s dream Sahrah’s glass crashed to the floor. How could Bertie know so much about her and her departed family? A brother Neil ,she had never known ,was he still alive, where is he now, why did her parent not tell her…,so many questions. Bertie mention a puppet in Yang City, where is it ,is the puppet still there 40 years later? She poured herself another huge drive k ,she was confused ,scared and excited, was there something special about Coby and Wispa ? She needed clarity comfort and salvations and answers to this crazy riddle. She pick up the note of the carpet ,and read it again and again. Sahrah woke up in a hazy stupor in the armchair, and a blank piece of crumpled paper in her lap. What next ? Mr K is coming soon …. PS: Thanks to Devi – local legend and lover of pets . © Concept by Devi & story line by NSW 14th May 2020 |
