Still cruisin(like a missile)

I got tired of sitting down and standing up, sitting down, standing up so I decided

to take a walk. And with my eyes open as far as they would go I walked and I met people I did speak to and chat but something quickened my step. It was the thought of being late for dinner. So I stepped that bit quicker and said hello that bit quicker and still I was going to be late for dinner so I stepped that bit quicker still, and still made time to say hello and goodbye and nice to meet you. I looked at my watch and noticed that it had different time zones. This writing made me wonder what it would be like to travel  through time zones but to still be on time for dinner. If I was flying would I still be in a rush? Where would I eat dinner? At my destination or on the plane or before I left? There were two people to go before I reached my gate. Would I acknowledge them reciprocally or would I cruise on past like a missile? My Hush Puppies were making loud noises in my head and they said nothing like’Come to bed’ so I tried to make them loud by stamping my feet waving hello and saying ‘good morning! How Do You Do?’ At the top of my voice. I tripped and fell my arm out before me like a stanchion, aluminium. It did not break but It hurt like Jiminy Cricket. Right in The Wicket. The people stared at me like I was real but no-one helped me to my feet. With stanchion arm intact I examined my hand for damage as that’s where the pain was coming from. I noticed a bit of grit had come between my outstretched palm and the floor and a bit of dust and some small piece of paper. It said to me You are a broom before I remembered dinner. I twisted my watch on my stanchion and did a double take. I was late and in pain. So I checked ahead. No more people. There was my gate. I was late but OK.


Published by Andrew Mark Watkins

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