Wednesday, 22 June 2016

Story #302 - Where's my phone? part 2

"There, that's better," I said to the mirror as I looked ready to go out and check the happenings.

Clothed with my regular black, no logo, t-shirt, assorted with the equally black, but skinny, trousers, going alongside a pair black shoes, I looked like I was going to a funeral. I'm sure someone will point out at me and say weird stuff. Hmm... If I'm thinking about that, it means I know something'll go down in the town. Should I change clothes? Nah! I'll be fine.

Stepped out my front door and saw people arguing. Stepped out my porch and clouds started gathering. Stepped out into the street and heard derogatory terms shouted in my direction. 'Blimey,' I thought. 'What did I do?'
I turned around and there was this old man of about 55-60, with hair barely standing between his ears and skull, wearing those round-shaped hippy-like glasses from decades ago, dressed in a suit.
"Oy, you fuckin' asshole."
I turned around to see if it was at me or not.
"Yeah. You!"
"Me, what? Why am I an asshole?"
"You stole my car."
I froze as my eyelids went to the sky and my forehead looked like sand dunes.
"Haha. Are you crazy? Look around you. Everybody lost their car. There are cables or telephone poles. Shit. I don't have my cell or my laptop in the home, but no, I stole your car, even though I just woke up."
"I don't have time for this, mate. I wanna see what's going on, and my guess is that the Mayor might know something."
Of course, he might not know anything, yet I bet that a lot of people are there. Worth a try.

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