Seeing It Trough. ( To The Bitter End. )

I haven't covered my tracks too well. I became careless with age. From soldier to doctor to assassin and then back to doctor. I've travelled a long way to gain nothing and lose almost everything apart from my self respect.

This afternoon at about 3 O'clock the guy who broke my jaw came stumbling through the main entrance of his office block. I had been there since 1 O'clock and I actually wasn't expecting him for a few more hours but the sooner the better.
He was fumbling for something in his pocket as I approached. He noticed my winkel pickers and looked up. I took two steps back.
" Remember me ?" I said.
I shot him once through his head and walked back to my car.

I wish I could have celebrated the New Year and hold her one more time on the anniversary of her death, but the police are outside and the time has come for me to take my leave. And they will find her in the freezer where she has always lain.
Sighning off, gun in hand, for the last time,
Cold Killer.

The Truth. ( Or Age And Disappointment. )

My brain was saying George Clooney, the mirror said freak!
So I came back to the table, my confidence shattered, where the most gorgeous woman was still waiting. To my surprise.
Gorgeous, fine, but direct.
" So tell me the truth. What do you want?"
I've been searching for the truth since I was 14 and I have never known what I have wanted. " To tell you the truth I don't know what I want and the truth is mostly unbelievable. I want ultimate truth. But I'm just as guilty about lying to everyone else so I'm not surprised that the truth doesn't present it's self. But if you want to know the truth of the way I think then you have to follow the Strummer/Weller and the Vonnegut/Bukowski train of thought.

The poor girl was only 24 and she wanted so much to understand. She stood no chance. I was obviously out of my depth. And she was doing her best.

" But what do you want right now?" she asked.
" The truth is that I want you to go away."
" Sorry?"
" No, don't be. Just go away. The truth is that you're too intrusive".
She got up with an indignant look, pulled on her coat and left without another word.
And the truth is that is just what I wanted.
But she was gorgeous!
I don't remember how I got home.
But I did.

Sucker Punch. ( Shock Treatment. I'm Doin' Fine)

I'm a sucker for a sad face. A bad quallity.
Anyway. I walked into the bar and had a good conversation with the barmaid.
Then it began to get busy.
I noticed a woman of about 30 sitting on her own looking pensive.
I walked over to her.
She looked up. But looked over my shoulder.
I turned. There was a very big bloke before me.
I only saw him for a second. Then I was flat on the floor.
The bastard broke my jaw.

But I'm learning his routine and I know now where I can take him out.
I know he's working on new year's eve. I know what time he will leave.

And all the plans he would of had after 19:30 will fly out the window.

You can't just brake my jaw and expect to get away with it.

Will inform you of his demise.

Cold Killer. xxx

Simply Dead.

After six months paid sick leave, Rachid was getting into his country route. Most of his passangers on his number 13 bus were OAP's going to do their shopping. Rachid had become more calm and relaxed in his work. But anyway, that's for later.

Two days ago I picked Mrs. Simpleton up at 10:00. She seemed to look forward to our outing. For someone sitting in a wheelchair she was very animated, arms flailing and screaming about monkeys. We were just outside the nursing home when she said loudly, " Where are we going today? The zoo, to the pub or the whorehouse?"
" I thought we might go to the river today", I said.
" Are there any ducks there"?
" I believe so."
" How much do you believe."
I couldn't make out if the question came from her dementia.
" Enough to get by." I replied.

So I was pushing her in the direction of the river. We passed a few pubs but I carried on pushing her full of good intentions. I had one destination in mind. The river. Mind you, I knew a very good bar there. A quiet counry bar.

Only one more street to cross. A lane in fact. A quiet country lane. The bar was in view. There was no curb so I pushed Mrs. Simpleton out before me.

The driver of the number 13 bus was too relaxed in his new job and wasn't really paying attention. Mrs. Simpleton went flying. Two fingers of my right hand got broken.

This morning I read in the local paper that a man who was a bus driver, of Indian origin, was found strung up in his home. And so it goes.

I don't think the nursing home will be in touch again.

Nice Day Out.

So yesterday I turned up at the appointed place at the appointed time and I was quite proud of myself for getting out of bed in time. I was greeted by a stern looking receptionist who told me "Mrs. Simpleton will be with you in a moment. Go and sit over there." She pointed to a waiting area full of ga ga's. I sat and waited. Then after ten minutes they wheeled in Mrs. Simpleton. She looked like a made up corpse. I wheeled her out into the streets.
"Where are we going " she crowed.
"To the zoo Mrs. Simpleton".
"Oh good, I like the wild animals. I think."

I had every intention of taking her there but somewhere along the way a pub stood in our path.
"Refreshments Mrs. Simpleton."
"What"?
She was a little deaf.
"A drink first my dear."
" Oh , lovely."
And there we sat, me drinking whisky, telling her it was a health mixture and her sitting drinking cider and believing it was an exotic cocktail.
Mrs. Simpleton was easily lead.
I ignored her for an hour.
A fantasy sat suddenly beside me.
" I think what you do is very nobel."
Nobel? I'm not going to give my life up for the old biddy.
We hit it off. She invited me back.
I parked Mrs. Simpleton in the front room, put a nature video on, and we went upstairs.

I returned Mrs. Simpleton at the appointed time at the appointed place. She was raving about puffins and seals, full of the joys of life.

I've been asked back !!!!
It was a good day out.

After.

After moving in,after five years, it suddenly became apparent that there was a huge hole in the floor. And looking through the hole you could see that the foundations were also pretty shakey.
You live with it or you tear it all down.......

Cold Killer.

Shagged out.

I was moving house yesterday togeather with my girlfriend. My new next door neighbour was sitting outside his door in the sun. We had introduced ourselves and he seemed like a pretty decent sort. After that I went to work carrying all the bags and boxes from the van to the flat three floors up. It took us the whole afternoon and every half hour I smoked a cigarette in the company of my new neighbour.
There was plenty of sweating, puffing and panting. Then when I was passing him for the last trip upstairs, struggling with a clothes dryer he said loudly, not even looking at me, " No shaggin' for you tonight!"

The relationship with my neighbour will never be anything special.

Holiday.

"Groovy, man," I heard somebody beside me say. I've heard so many forms of greeting in the last two months in L.A. that I was not in the least surprised. I turned to the speaker and then remembered that I was at a fancy dress party. The man standing next to me had a wig on with long matted hair and a huge fake joint in his hand. I looked at him thinking ' Why is that joint fake? This is L.A.!' But then I remembered how I was dressed. As Batman ! I was showing all I didn't have to offer. And in the city that's built on fake, that's the last thing you want to do. You would think that Batman could never be out of place, especially in the city of dreams, but I maybe should have put a salami in my tight licra costume to be on the safe side.
Up untill this point I was't enjoying myself.
"You wanna light my fire man"?
I lifted my mask and gave him my street stare.
" No, really. Have you got a light"?
I picked up a box of matches from a coffee table and I lit the 18 inch monster and after getting it going he offered it to me.

I got up two hours ago from my own bed two days after the event and I have no idea what's gone on. I have a bad feeling about it all.

I think I will go home early.

Oh no, I just rememered something. The rubber sabre and the feather duster.
I'm on the next plane out.....

Super Woman.

I sat on the 81st floor of the Grand Hotel.The rest of the 80 floors all had ceilings. From that angle I had the the best perspective on depth. Depth is inviting.
Sat there trying to think like a Samuri warrior beceause I thought that I was doing the honourable thing.
Nothing below was real.
The sound of a bird sitting on a telephone mast behind me made me turn my head. It went "Brrrrr, brrrrr. Brrrrr, brrrrrr."

And then, whoosh.
She was there . For me.

Super Woman to the rescue !

Fidel thinks.....

I'm jumping around the room to the music of The Clash and Fidel is sitting on the couch thinking ' what the hell is he doing'. And all of a sudden I've had enough of The Clash and I put Bossa n Roses on. And I smooch with myself. And Fidel thinks, 'what the hell is he doing?'
But then I go to him and stroke him under his chin. And then he understands....

Met groetjes aan Piep, Keesje, Rusty, De Dikke Witte,Billy, en natuurlijk Jezebel.
And Fidel thinks .... 'Nutter ".

On Call. (Again)

Nothing much has happened since my last call out.When I could have lost my life....
Old women with bladder infections and that sort thing are the order of the day.
But yesterday I knew my Honda was on it's last legs so I decided to take the 08:30 bus to my village practice three miles further up.
Rachid was new to his country route so I can't really blame him.
But I'm writing this with my right arm because he fucked my left arm up real good.
I understand that Rachid can't work for another two months.
I do what I can.
And my wife is still where she lies.

3 Million Miles Away......

Nothing worse.....

Nothing worse than torture.
I've been tortured for two months so I know what torture is.
Two months every year. That's my cross to bare.
But now I'm back in the real world and it's all falling apart.
HELP !!!!!!

Want to come home.

Lying in a ditch is no fun. I wanted to be home for Christmas. And here I am. Long way from home. Bleeding. Watching it all flow away. The worst thing is, is that I may never hold her hand again or do spoons. But I'm watching the drops fall and am praying that nothing worse falls on my head.

But then again, torture is worse.

Grow your own..

I went to the barber a couple of days ago. I will never laugh at anybody's haircut again.
I now imagine everyone bald. It's easy to do.
And then I see them in the hat that's their hair.
A creation of their own and their hairdresser's.
Nurture it into the proudest pineapple, mow it like the grass.
Feed it well !
Grow your own hat.!

D - day

Nobody can control what they think when they are dreaming.
She's not on the phone every day !
For the first time in years I dreamed of her.
And in the morning my answering machine is flashing.
And of course, it's her voice.
These kind of things fuck me up.
Why do they happen?

Oh, sorry, I was sleep typing.
None of this has ever happened !

A Miss Is As Good As A Mile. ( You Lucky Son Of A ....)

I can't brag about it because a miss is as good as a mile. My 100% record was gone.
But the cross of my sight was in the middle of his forehead. I swear it ! But the moment I shot he didn't fall. I was stunned; perplexed. The bodyguards knew something was going on so they had pulled him to the ground before I could gather enough control for a second attempt. This was the first time that this had ever happened to me , I was confused and didn't know what to do for a second or two. But I reacted quickly enough to pack my weapon away and get the hell out of there.
I cooley walked into a bar two blocks away and took six shots before I went back to my apartment.

And then six months later as I'm watching a ball game I get a flash of red in my eye. That day my reactions were perfect. The assholes hadn't covered the back exit. And I got the hell out of there. The hunter being hunted don't feel so good. I've lost my bottle and will look for other work.

I'm in transit. Greetings from Greenland.
Love, Cold Killer. XXX

Deja vu / Reincarnation.

I'm trying my very best. I always have done. I'm trying to get to the place where I should be. Instinctively. Always on the look out but you can't be aware of everything all the time. Using all my strength and all that's in my power to get there.

In the deep blue I've dodged sharks and ' friendly dolphins '. Friendly my arse!
And in the shallows I've been scraped by bears claws and have almost bitten on hooks.
But now here I am. The hardest trial of all. Swimming against a torrent. 20 tons of water pounding on my head.
Even though my brain is just less than the size of a pea it has a kind of flashback. I can almost remember doing this before. And I can vaguely hear the voice of David Attenborough. And in another flash I remember how it ends.
Which ever direction I choose it means death. So I choose to avoid the struggle of certain death, turn back and swim with the current. Now I'm moving. Now I'm having fun. And if only you could see the shocked eyes of of my comrades as they swim passed me with great desire.
And suddenly they have all passed me by and I am free.
I feel rebellious.
I feel scared.
Oh fuck. a shar.............

From Dakar to The Shetlands. (But then somewhere cold )

Even though we both had our helmets on before stepping into the car we looked each other in the eyes. Because of his vizier I couldn't see his mouth but I knew he was smiling. We had it in the bag. We've been partners for fifteen years. There's an understanding.
And we were so far ahead in the championship that we only turned up for the appearance money.
To cut a long story short, we were on top of the world but not paying attention to what was important.
I said to Sven, ( the driver ), " Straight ahead 60 " , and bugger me after 30 there was a tree slightly to the left !!!! We just scraped it but then veered off into a ditch to the right.
I've driven with drivers who have given me a punch in the head for a fault of one meter.
As we came to an unexpected,abrupt stop, Sven swung around to the right and I to the left. Our helmets smashed in to each other. We were chin to chin. We grinned at each other. Sven grabbed my helmet and said,"We are the winners" As we sank into what appeared to be a swamp........................

Old Shep.

My memory isn't so good. So all I can tell you is that my last memories begin with the sight of an open field and the chain being unleashed from my collar. And then I ran wild and free. Then I saw cotton candy floating around in the green sky.
I chased some down and bit in. .......... Again and again.
Very tasty.
And now this guy's looking down on me and he has a needle in his hand.
I was only having fun........

Through Time.

I can feel myself motionless , doing nothing. And that's just what I want and need. But everything's going on. A girl of sixteen who is now 43. I feel like a dirty old man when I think of her then.

I kind of get freaked out thinking about what I think and my only solution to the problem is to walk it off.
So I took to the streets. I saw a neighbour and ignored her, I had no news and no meaning. I stepped in dog shit, I swore. I passed shops, not much I like and nothing I can afford. I saw two people cuddling on a bench, aah. I looked in a bookshop and saw my own reflection, aaahhhh!!!!!
I took coffee and cigarettes in a bar , trying to heal myself. I step outside and a skinhead swears at me, I've never seen him before in my life. I've still got a mile and a half to reach the town center, and I almost give up. But not quite. I persevere. To my regret. I saw a woman screaming at a 3 year old, I almost caved in. More than one beggar tugged at me, it left me cold. I wanted to eat, I found a cafe. I ate well and began to relax. I smoked a cigarette. I stood up to go to the toilet. I was confronted by a grizzly. " Remember me " ? he roared heartily. I couldn't place him before I woke up 15 minutes ago. It's all very embarrassing.
But then again..... at the time...... I was very..very...vry.dr n dru ck............

The Most Beautiful Woman In The World.

It was two weeks ago that I had agreed to the lads night out. Then I was in the mood .

" So we come to the last pub on the crawl and I give my thanks to God and Allah. I'm getting to old for it. To be honest I'm way past the point of. I am. It's just hard to admit it. Yes that's right, Punk is dead! But then again the rest of the 'lads' haven't caught on yet either.
Anyway; the lads have sprawled themselves around a table and when I come back from ordering the drinks I'm not surprised to to find that the subject has turned back to women. I sit down opposite Dave. He's a huge man with pock marked skin and long straggly hair. I don't remember him saying a word the whole evening.
We are a sad bunch of 40 plussers who have lucked out for the past few hours with our corny lines and bravado.
" The most beautiful woman who ever lived", I hear, as I take my first sip of my fifth whisky. And that after all those pints.
" Madonna!", says Ian, 44, divorced, broken nose and with half his teeth missing. " Mature and wild sexy."
" Good choice " says Steve with half closed eyes, " but I fink...." he starts to drool, " Chritine Agua...." God he's pissed, " Bonnie.....Lira..". He starts to fall asleep in the middle of his unfathomable sentence.We poke him with force.
" Who Steve "?
" Crisheen Agleerrrrr" and he promptly falls off his stool. It's late so we don't bother to pick him up.We just smile at each other.
" Susan Sarronden" says Jamie. Almost 60, thick rimmed glasses and a beer belly like Kilimanjaro. We all smile at him sympathetically. He is the oldest of the bunch after all. When last orders are called Shane calls out , " A pint and a Scotch all around. Except for Steve." He's still on the ground.
Dave downs half his pint and then his whisky. He still says nothing.
" Marylin Monroe ", says Dean as he stands up. He gulps his whisky down and shoves his pint towards Ian. " And with that thought I shall go home to my lovely wife. If I can find a taxi at this time of night and if she will let me in." He stumbles out the door.
There's only six of us left.
More whiskies turn up.
The barman's okay.
I stand up to go to the toilet and that's when the commotion starts. Glasses flying, blood on the bar, a woman screaming and the wailing of sirens. If I remember correctly. I could be wrong. It's been known to happen on more than one occasion."

And now I'm looking at Dave standing in the dock. And the prosecutor is saying, " The defendant didn't seem to resist the original arrest but as he was being lead to the police car he suddenly turned and head butted an officer. He then elbowed another officer on the jaw and yelled ..... " I've got three words for you fucking wankers. WENDY VAN DIJK." Then he fell backwards on to his head."

Dave can't remember a fucking thing and neither can I. He gets 250 hours community service. He doesn't understand what for. I wake up in my own bed thinking about Wendy Van Dijk and knowing I've had a stroke of luck.

Beauty , racism and a heart of gold.

Damian is one of my closest friends. Not the sharpest knife in the draw and has a mouth like a sewer. I don't think I have ever heard him utter a sentence without at least one swear word in it. He could be talking to the queen and it wouldn't matter a fuck to him. He's six feet four , bald and built like a brick shit house. Looks like the type of guy who would lay you out for looking at him in the wrong way. But he's not like that at all. Even though , I wouldn't rub him up the wrong way. I've seen him fight. I've seen him pulverize three men at a time. But he's got a heart of gold. I've never seen him wear anything but a T-shirt. Well obviously jeans, socks and trainers and a leather jacket in winter but he never wears a shirt or a pullover.
Yesterday I was sitting in my local and had got talking to one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen in my life. Dark hair , milky skin, dead brown eyes. But what was coming out of her mouth was puke. Scandalous. Rough racist crap.
I had to bite my lip. I really should have had the conviction to argue or put her in her place or just punch her in the mouth but her beauty had me mezmorized. I bit my lip so hard it started to bleed. Not cool. Full of frustration and weakness I was just about to leave when Damian walked in. He got a pint and came and sat with us. His imposing figure had no effect on the woman. She just carried on spouting. Race was obviously one of her favorite topics of conversation. I certainly hadn't started the conversation.
Damian had downed his pint within five minutes. He had listened intently for those five minutes and then went to get himself another pint. When he came back he said to the woman, " You really do talk a load of fucking shit don't you? I mean , who the fuck are you?" The woman stood up with a sour face and went into the ladies.
"Why the fuck are you talking to her," asked Damian. " She's a cunt! "
" Yeah, that's what I thought."
" No, she hasn't just got a cunt , she IS a cunt!!!"
"Sorry Damian, but I was hypnotized by her beauty. I was just about to leave because I couldn't stand it anymore and then you walked in."
" It's alright mate. She is beautiful, you are gullible and I'm a thick shit. Consider it sorted."
I didn't really get it. And that's not surprising either.
The woman came back and sat down and started immediately talking of what should be done with all the niggers and pakis.
Damian looked as sweet as pie and drained his glass. Then with a very swift action his glass broke in her face and he gave it a twist for good measure. Her hands rose to her face as she fell to the floor.
" One weapon less" said Damian as he ran for the door.
The woman lay screaming and writhing on the ground, ruining the carpet with all the blood.
And I just pissed myself laughing, full of relief.
The police took me in for talking to a beautiful woman who is no longer beautiful. They haven't pressed charges.

International Weather News. ( Just another day in Bagdad.)

" Good evening and welcome to International Weather News, I'm Tempesta Blizzaard. Well it's all been happening with the weather hasn't it? As we can see on the satellite picture over Great Britain and the rest of Europe it's still very unsettled. The storms that have been battering Europe are still persisting. Seven dead yesterday in Britain and a total of twenty three in the rest of Europe. We did warn you to stay at home. But did you listen? Did you hell! And despite all this you will probably go out today as well. Be it on your own head.
" So our forecast for the next twenty four hours in Britain is about nine deaths. Experts predict that another thirty or so people will die in the rest of Europe in the coming twenty four hours. These calculations were made without any forthcoming information from the Russian government. The Russians have been spared the storms but are struggling with temperatures of minus 30 and heavy snowfall in many parts of the country. The only thing a spokesman for president Poetin had to say was ; " Alot of our old people will die because of the unfortunate weather conditions. " We asked him what was alot? He had a broad smile on his face as he said " Many, many, many. "
An independent reporter in Moscow said he saw an old woman suddenly turn blue and drop dead in a breadline. And so it goes.

And if we flip over to the other side of the world we can see that Australia and Indonesia are having trouble with forest fires as a result of many months of drought. One firefighter died in Australia and two in Indonesia.
Our experts have predicted that at least five more will die in the region in the next twenty four hours.


And now moving on to The United States where they're having all kinds of everything. The Golden Gate Bridge was bending every which way but the police closed it off in time so no deaths there. But the biggest surprise was in Florida where temperatures of minus 50 in combination with a hurricane caused the deaths of 2000 people over the age of 78. President Bush said ; " At least they lived a life." Despite the temperatures and the wind chill factor, the excursion to Key West for 100 people over the age of 79 will still be going ahead. President Bush just grinned that moronic grin and said; " I'm sure some of them will make it. "

Moving on to Greenland now where 2 fishermen fell through the ice. They had visited that spot for the last twenty years but yesterday the ice was too thin because of the abnormal high temperatures in the region over the last three months. You've got to laugh haven't you. And so it goes. Meteorologists in Greenland were too confused to give a prediction for the coming 24 hours.

Even though I'm going to advise you not to go outside tomorrow I know some of you will. So my weather prediction for tomorrow is ; 9 deaths in Britain and about 35 deaths in the rest of Europe.
Not a bad forecast really. Better than a day in Baghdad. And now back to the studio."

Fuck Bill.

" I'll tell you how it is you little shit " he tried to look me in the eyes but couldn't focus. " You pay too much regard." I was pissed but he was much further. " You give people too much credit! They're not worth it. Not in general anyway. Most of it's sleaze and the rest is lies and deception. And you're in love with it all. I pity you. Asshole!"
He was still trying to fix on my eyes but was all over the place. "See that girl over there......What do you think of her?"
" I think she's gorgeous."
" Asshole; she's probably got three guys on the go and probably hates all of them. You have too much trust in human kind. You're an asshole! You need therapy or guidance. The world isn't black or white you tool, but full of greys with the occasional flash of reds and yellows. Your trouble is that you think too clearly."
He looked like he hadn't been loved for years. He had become hard without becoming bitter. He was a good laugh on a good day. He looked like shit but deep down he was a softy. Passionate neglect.
" Go'n' talk to her. See if I'm wrong."
" I have no desire ..................."
" ASSHOLE. That's your problem. You watch life go by before your eyes but you have no desire. You're a weak little shit." And with that he fell off his stool with a sickening thud. But he was still conscious so I helped him back on to his stool.
"You all right Bill?"
" Sure, I just didn't eat too well today " The affliction of every drunkard. " Go talk to her."
So I did. I walked over to her and her friend and asked them if they would like another drink. They were obviously Muslims, with the head scarfs and all, but they were drinking beer. They accepted! And we talked.
I've been married to Boushra for two and a half years now. And we are not bitter.

Fuck you Bill!!!!!!!!

The First Snowball And The First Strike Of Lightening. ( of 2007 )

There were no junior doctors available to take duty over the festive period so it fell to me . For the first time in twenty years. But I'm sixty four, one and a half years away from retirement, so I was not overjoyed at the prospect of being on call. My wife had died two years ago on new years eve at 23:55 of heart failure. Holding a glass of champagne she fell at my feet like a collapsing building.

A general practitioners life in this neck of the woods is none too exiting. And that's the way I like it.
I hoped I would live another year to toast my wife at the time of her death. I obviously had to stay sober in case of emergency. At 23:55 I stood in the garden staring in the direction of the nearest village which was three miles away. I had a glass of very watered down wine in my hand.
FLASH. It was 2007. Eight seconds later it was BANG. 2007. The village looked beautiful and I wept without purpose. The heavy white clouds were low and the fireworks permeated the atmosphere revealing beauty and danger.

At 00:15 I went back into the house to check on my Labrador, 'Taffy' . Taffy was okay. He was getting on and didn't hear too well anyway so the fireworks in the distance were no problem.
I drank a small port and smoked a cigar. At 01:00 I went to bed.
I woke at 08:00 and went downstairs, opened the back door for Taffy, and put on the kettle for a cup of tea. A very thin layer of snow had fallen. I couldn't face breakfast. To be quite honest I couldn't face the world but then the phone rang. Could I go out to a woman in the next village who was giving birth? I hadn't delivered a baby in more than 20 years. As I wrote down her address the only thing I could think was ' Stupid bitch. Why weren't you in hospital days ago?'
I changed in a hurry for someone of my age, made sure Taffy was inside and had enough food and then I started my Honda 500cc up and rode through my gate. There were only three houses between me and the next village which was 3 miles in a straight line. 2 dips and 2 hills but none the less a straight line.
All of a sudden as I was passing the second house on the way to the village a little boy jumped up from behind a low brick wall and threw a snowball at me. The stupid little fucker!!! There was no traffic at the best of times on this road so why now????? Why the fuck wasn't the stupid little git playing on his Playstation.?
I lost control of the bike and went arse over tit. Two saltos further I landed in the neighbours garden. The neighbour was Mrs. Jones who I have treated for the last 20 years. But I had now stood up after my fall in my leathers and darkened vizier and she came screaming toward me and proceeded to try to beat me up with a broom handle. She was deranged. She kept on hitting me despite the fact that I was shouting " Mrs. Jones, it"s me the doctor."
I spread my arms out and shouted " Happy Fucking New Year !!!!" I took my helmet off.
" Oh doctor , it's you."
" Yes it's me you silly bit.... ".. I began, but then all of a sudden she hit me again. At that moment I saw an enormous flash of lightning a mile further down the road. Three seconds later the clap of thunder struck Mrs. Jones to the ground. I helped her to her feet and took her inside.
Then my mobile rang.
" There's a fire at number................"
Exactly where I should have been.
Mother , father , baby didn't make it.
I did.
Mrs.Jones only just missed out.
And my wife is still where I left her.

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYBODY !!!!!!!!!!