AND THEREBY HANGS A TALE (Continued)
The Dream
It was a cold, blustery November evening.
Down the steps of the forbidding grey granite building came a short and chubby lady clad in a
slightly too small overcoat and clutching an old, much battered briefcase and a supermarket bag.
The almost horizontal rain beat into her reddening face like the multiple stings of angry wasps.
As she exited through the wrought iron gates she saw her bus disappearing down the road.
?Damn? she said to herself as she realised that there would be at least twenty minutes before
the next one.
As she stood pondering what to do a car raced past pluming the contents of a large puddle and
soaking her from head to foot. She screamed and let forth a torrent of abuse aimed at the distant
car driver giving a precise description of the driver, his family through the ages, his friends and
anyone who had ever met him. It was a masterful performance in which she never repeated herself, not
even once.
As she filled her lungs in preparation for an encore a button on her overcoat gave up its struggle
with her more than ample bosom and disappeared onto the dark and gloomy pavement. As she bent to
retrieve it she groaned and thought ?I wish I was home and dry and warm?.
And lo and behold there she was at home sitting by a log fire at home.
?A cup of tea and a wee dram would make this complete? she thought and there on the table was
a cup of steaming hot tea and a large tot of her favourite single malt. After a while she looked
in her supermarket bag and found the ready prepared pale imitation of a lasagne in its plastic
cling film covered tray.
She groaned and said aloud ?That looks perfectly disgusting I wish I had a real meal ready for when
Dave gets home? and there on the stove simmering gently was a beef stew with dumplings and vegetables.
"Anything I wish for I am getting" she thought "What I would really like is to have finished my
course and passed my exams."
And there she was back outside the wrought iron gates lying on the pavement.
?You must have fainted? said a voice that sounded as if she was at the bottom of deep well, ?Are
you OK now?? said the voice getting clearer as she struggled back to consciousness. The voice had
two arms which helped her to her feet.
A taxi drew up and she decided that to take the cab home would be a wise move. As she rode home
in the back of the taxi a still but persistent thought came to her head, a thought planted there a
long while ago by a former tutor ?If you can dream it you can do it? it said over and over again.
She paid off the cab and went into her house where , much to her surprise, Dave was already there
she went up to him and said ?I?ve been thinking and there?s going to be some changes made, we are
going to set our sights higher, we are going to start living not just existing?. She kissed him and
went off to change leaving a perplexed Dave standing in front of the empty fire grate.
The Pink Flag
The worker?s flag is slightly pink
It?s not as red as you may think
We must not let the people know
What Socialists thought long ago
Don?t let the scarlet banner float
We need the middle classes? vote
Though our old-fashioned comrades sneer
We?ll stay in power for many a year.