Tuesday, 24 July 2012

Apprehension, suspense and a cliffhanger

But first:-
I dig
you dig
we dig
he dig
she dig
they dig

Not the best poem in the world but deep.


Apprehension etc


I pulled  up in the car park ten minutes early, switched the car engine off, pulled down the sun visor and grimaced into the vanity mirror! It was too hot to stay where I was although I'd no great wish to get out and face the music. Walking towards the door of the building that I had to go through I was concerned to see that the front was covered with scaffolding. Perhaps they were shut! That couldn't really be the case as I'd only been informed of the appointment a couple of days earlier. I went through the door that had a streaky coat of primer on it and into the partially refurbished, empty waiting area.
 It couldn't really be described as a room because it led to a corridor, a carpeted, steep and narrow staircase. The reception area in the corner was peopled by two ladies one of whom indicated that I should take a seat after ascertaining my name matched the booking register. I'd always found the counter unnaturally high and at the same time quite amusing as the only part of the ladies that was visible was the bobbing tops of their heads. Isn't it strange how much our heads move when we talk! Perhaps they had something to hide.
I picked up the newspaper that , for a waiting room, was bang up-to-date. Were my hands shaking? If they were holding the paper up that would emphasise my weakness. I was ten minutes early and hoped it would be over soon because of my early arrival. Two girls came in and sat on chairs against the wall opposite me. A middle aged man entered and sat two away to my left, then a young Asian gentleman in traditional Pakistani dress sat next to me on my right and picked up the newspaper I'd now discarded.
My appointment time came and went with one of the girls, the more tearful of the two, ascending the staircase. The Asian man on my right closed the newspaper put it in his left hand and leant across me, I tensed, he placed the tabloid on the chair on my left. The older guy removed a spectacle case from his trouser pocket, placed the contents on his nose and picked up the paper.
The girl came down the stairs still looking tearful but smiling at her friend, she walked to the reception counter arranged a subsequent appointment. I tensed wondering if this was going to be it!
"David, you can go up now," said a disembodied voice from behind the counter.
Isn't it strange when you are in a state of stress that all of your movements no longer seem smooth and unhurried. I never liked being in crowded public places and twelve feet can seem an interminable distance when you feel that your being observed.
A tall, slim Pakistani girl in a navy smock and trousers was waiting at the top of the stairs for me. She smiled in welcome and it seemed genuine enough, then she turned and led me to the room where he was waiting. The next few seconds, for that was all it was were relatively painless. He took off my own glasses and laid them to one side on the clinically clean writing surface.
"We will remove the old repair and rebuild totally," he smiled. "you need to make a longer appointment for your next visit as we will have to medicate you."
He returned my glasses wished me good morning and I was off down to reception. I felt crushing disappointment as I wanted it over and done with today but it was all to re-live once again. Stepping out into the bright, warm sunlight there was no sense of relief just the sure and certain knowledge of guaranteed discomfort - euphemism for pain - and hours of dread anticipation.




Writers - use the inspiration of every day situations.


God Bless