A little of this and a bit more

Alan Crawford presents twisted short and some longer stories for adults, with quite a number of his rants and observations as well.

Several curious people, really it’s just one, asked me how or where the ideas came from. Thankfully there’s no clear answer. When the trousers, mind, or weather conditions suit such things, the computer opens, a page appears, and it starts to flow. See menu for the main Short Stories.

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How not to park the car

Reading Time: 4 minutesMaybe I should just disappear? I might move to another part of the world. “What do you think Helen? Stave off any repercussions, run away, tactful retreat. I mean, just piss off and not come back, hide from the Police?” I should have known how not to park the car.

Helen had listened to Roy before, each time it became obvious that he’d have to do something. Just stay, go or just shut the fuck up and wait to be caught. Helen knew that Roy was very complicated. This sure was an extreme example of how not to park the car.

Poor old Roy had run over a work colleague in the carpark of the local shopping centre, the K Shopping Centre. A recently renovated centre that had somehow squeezed nine million people and their cars into spaces and areas large enough for one hundred thousand people.

How not to park the car

This amazing situation ensured the “K Shopping Centre” became the most unpleasant experience you could endure. The only folk that endured such a nightmare were too stupid to drive four kilometres in either direction. Two recently renovated shopping centres, some fifty times bigger, were far better and far more comfortable.

The deceased co-worker Roy had left for dead, was very dead. Roy had hit Mark by accident at first but when he realised what he’d done he reversed and smacked over, into and over and over again at the ever decreasing body of Mark. The body was a bloody mess squelching and bubbling in the hot concrete carpark. It pooled into the dips the concrete construction crew had left there.

The mess would never come out despite the intense level of cleaning applied for days. Chemicals, blood sweat and tears, well yes metaphorical blood but it had no effect. Experts considered a text book case of how not to park the car.

Mark’s body was poured into an Ambulance designed for such messy work and taken to the nearest Hospital, a bright shiny new building which was the proud and joy of the local community. The fact that Mark used to work in the Government department assigned to run this sparkling edifice of medical architecture wasn’t lost on the nurse who signed him in. Same as he wasn’t missed in the car park actually.

Once the ex-co-workers realised he wouldn’t be back, they muffled their routine rambunctious nature as they returned to gossiping about those that remained. There were givers, takers and all were involved in the gossip. Roy was suspiciously absent from work as well and the givers and takers could not figure it out, they had no idea that he’d rolled Mark into a kebab like spread on a very hot day at the K.

Roy had been becoming a professional curmudgeon of the highest order and was becoming so very quickly. He was growing a beard and thought it was time, due to some serious teeth pain that his remaining ones needed to join the missing ones. He’d had a large number removed and had bought some replacements. His previously purchased teeth were getting on in years, but they were younger than him and so would the new ones bought to fill the new holes.

His view on life varied

It all depended on what pains he was living through, back, neck, groin, legs teeth, head and the nasty thoughts that pained him as well. He’d run away and avoid Police, the courts, goal and the nasty case of mistaken sexual intent that goal would provide. He laughed at the thought of suddenly becoming someone’s bitch as he was soon turning 60, the poor fucker wouldn’t be getting the good end of the stick. That’s if the fucker wanted Roy to be the top of course. The stick was another of Roy’s pains, he often just sat inside apartment 2204 waiting for the end.

So Helen just sat waiting for Roy to get his collective shit together. He’d decided to run away to Spain, the Costa Del Sol. A very heavily populated UK repat spot where he thought he could hide out his days. Lurking on the edges, drinking, eating and more drinking, while trying to have sex with the new and soon to be sunburnt tourists, he’d stay off the radar.

This regime of eat, drink sleep, fuck appealed to him. Helen should come over as well. He might even invite Helen. She was beyond falling into Roy’s trap. She was very good company and she really did care.

The office’s next doughnut morning tea

The K Shopping Centre was the chosen for the morning tea. Not one person cared that they should have gone somewhere else. Not parking in the one bay that still held some off his remains didn’t even enter their minds. Bill from the scheduling section had the misfortune of getting some of Mark on his shoes, he suddenly thought about it.

He did carp and moaned on about his ruined shoes for the whole morning tea. They shared the flavours and types of doughnuts with coffee, gossiped about the takers not there and wondered about Roy. Where the fuck was Roy, he’d missed paying his share of the morning tea money again. One thing they did learn was how not to park the car. He’d also somehow fallen off the roster and hadn’t been at work for a fortnight.

Spain was wonderful and Helen did join Roy.

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I'm an increasingly grumpy old fart posting rants, observations and trying to write somewhat twisted short and slightly longer stories for adults. All rights reserved unless otherwise credited © Alan Crawford - 2024

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