Saturday, 6 August 2011

Night Trips to Madness

We stopped off for a takeaway on the way home, I certainly didn’t feel like cooking, and the aroma wafting from the Chinese take-away was far too delectable to be ignored.
I was served by a middle-aged woman who, originally from Liverpool, had swapped the hustle and bustle of city life for the peace and tranquillity of this small surfing town.
We chatted for a while as she told me that life for her was so much better since making the move. She too had started holidaying here several years earlier and had simply fallen in love with the place. It was only after returning home she realised she no longer felt comfortable in the city; a city that had been the only home she’d ever known.
That I could understand.


Returning to the car the little ones immediately demanded I gave them prawn crackers. The younger male simply groaned, reminding them as he did to be careful with the crumbs; the smell being something else he couldn’t abide.
Pulling up to the caravan the sky had now turned a hostile grey..a bit like my thoughts as once inside we ate in silence.

No one fancied the club- house that evening and who could blame them, it had been a long day, instead we lounged around the caravan not really saying much, the little ones happyily sorting through their gifts while ignoring us almost as much as we were ignoring each other.
It was then I began to write and while doing so thought back on the events of the past three days, they had certainly been fuelled by varying degrees of emotion that was for sure.


The younger male in the meantime slept off his meal, saliva dribbling from his open mouth, his snores boring holes through my head, the annoyance of this forcing me to remove myself from the room as the temptation to strike him with something heavy swelled up out of nowhere.

Getting up I  poured myself a rather large drink, the bourbon warm as it hit the back of my throat, its dark full bodied flavour encapsulating my need for some kind of emotional attention that would deliver a similar effect.
Then, while debating on what we were to do for the rest of the evening and not wanting any kind of assistance in the matter, I came up with the notion that a late night trip to the beach would be fun.

The little ones on being told this immediately began to whine and moan, the weather being one excuse, the fact it was pitch black outside another. The younger male, who happened to wake in the midst of the discussion dishevelled and disorientated, uncharacteristically agreed with yours truly.
The dilemma being easily settled and noticing it was almost nine, I hurried the children into suitable sweaters, while arming myself with an alcohol laced flask, several thought provoking cigarettes and with torches in hand we left.




R.M Roberts ©:2008