He crossed to the platform edge, clasping his sacred satchel. The indicator radiated its message: first train, via Bank, four minutes. He was pleased; the pews and aisles would be stuffed with agitated City zombies, their newspapers fixed like cracked tombstones. Three minutes. Maybe Charing Cross was more appropriate? No, mass was all important today. Two minutes. A thought flickered through his mind: 'be sure your sin will find you out'. One minute. The metallic serpent slid into the station and hissed open its doors. Martin hustled his way into the congregation, undid his satchel, and proclaimed, 'God is great'.
14 December 2011
10 December 2011
How to kill 7 women
This is adapted from the original which was published on my OU blog whcih can be found here: http://learn.open.ac.uk/mod/oublog/view.php?user=792360. It is semi-autobiographical.
I was visiting my Manchester office last week, in a fairly new development called Piccadilly Plaza, just a couple of minutes walk from Piccadilly station. I had occassion to go and sort out a 'preferential corporate rate' with the nice people at the local Malmaison hotel. Our business concluded, I set about walking back to the office and was soon accosted by seven women who wanted to know if I could direct them to the Saco apartments were. As it happens, I know exactly where they are; right next to my office. So, I boldly declared this fact, adding, 'follow me ladies', and set off to prove my superior local knowledge.
Coming round the round the corner of the Mint hotel, from Aytoun Street, one is forced to cross a tram line in order to access Piccadilly Plaza but in my usual happy-go-lucky way I'd struck up conversation with several of said ladies and thus it was that we were somewhat engrossed; it being the case that they were there on a hen weekend, no less. A bright future in store for the hen, no doubt.
They were just explaining their plans for the weekend as we started crossing the tramline. No sooner were we halfway across when a tram came clanking its way round the corner, in the further lane. The ladies lept back into the first lane, whilst I vaulted to the pavement on the far side. I watched as they began excitedly exclaiming their good fortune as they ditsied around like a flock of flamingoes (chatter chatter).
Another tram came the other way.
So, now you know how to kill seven women in your lunchbreak
Please note that no flamingoes were harmed in the making of this blog post.
I was visiting my Manchester office last week, in a fairly new development called Piccadilly Plaza, just a couple of minutes walk from Piccadilly station. I had occassion to go and sort out a 'preferential corporate rate' with the nice people at the local Malmaison hotel. Our business concluded, I set about walking back to the office and was soon accosted by seven women who wanted to know if I could direct them to the Saco apartments were. As it happens, I know exactly where they are; right next to my office. So, I boldly declared this fact, adding, 'follow me ladies', and set off to prove my superior local knowledge.
Coming round the round the corner of the Mint hotel, from Aytoun Street, one is forced to cross a tram line in order to access Piccadilly Plaza but in my usual happy-go-lucky way I'd struck up conversation with several of said ladies and thus it was that we were somewhat engrossed; it being the case that they were there on a hen weekend, no less. A bright future in store for the hen, no doubt.
They were just explaining their plans for the weekend as we started crossing the tramline. No sooner were we halfway across when a tram came clanking its way round the corner, in the further lane. The ladies lept back into the first lane, whilst I vaulted to the pavement on the far side. I watched as they began excitedly exclaiming their good fortune as they ditsied around like a flock of flamingoes (chatter chatter).
Another tram came the other way.
So, now you know how to kill seven women in your lunchbreak
Please note that no flamingoes were harmed in the making of this blog post.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)