Cats and dogs were falling from the sky that lunch time. Falling so heavily that they were bouncing back off the pavement as we hurried back to school. We were not happy as there was a long way to go. And the rain did not look like stopping before Christmas.
There were three of us, all neighbours, all wishing we didn’t have to go back to school – ever again. There was me and D, and T. As we were about to make the turn onto the first of several very long streets that would take us there, T announced that he’d heard of a shortcut we could take. It sounded like a bloody good idea, so me and D let him lead the way.
We cut through a couple of side streets and along the side of a builder’s yard. T led us to a narrow gap between two buildings and announced that this was the shortcut. The gap was very narrow. The ground very wet and muddy, and covered in all kinds of crap (literally). Still we had come this far and would have to back-track if we were going to get to school by any other route.
“Who’s going first?” I asked, having decided that it sure as hell was not going to be me.
“No way,” said D, looking at T. You may remember T, actually. He appears in an earlier post [click here] about cowboys and indians – I told him, with youthful political incorrectness, that he was the wrong colour to be a cowboy. T looked from me to D, shrugged and stepped into the breach.
“Oh, well,” he said, “Shit before the shovel.”
Me and D were still laughing as we all made our way home later that day. Though by then it was only kittens and puppies that fell from the sky.
No pets were harmed in the writing of this post.