Was it the hunt and peck
that incessant discordant clatter
of a pool of girly typists typing
or their less than accomplished
orchestration of du Maurier
‘filtered for flavour’ induced
wheezes that made him conclude
that one cannot be a traitor
on a globe without frontiers?
Given the choice he would relocate to Leningrad, join the Soviets, drink history and neat vodka
in equal measure and thereafter write a tome regarding the failings of democratic endeavour
nearly five o’clock on a Friday night
the office would soon be locked up
he could put aside dismal thoughts
of paperwork, pens and thumbtacks
for those of ale, tarts and fruit machines
the red lights of Soho scared him shitless
the punters in pubs looked at him
as if he were either a loser or a loner
devoid of even a modicum of social etiquette
a smart restaurant quite out of the question
it would have to be the usual Wimpy Bar burger
thereafter sipping from a half bottle of whisky
disguised within a recyclable brown paper bag
sat alone on his bench of preference
under a light polluted full moon in Hyde Park
‘Home’ such as it was, a ‘no place for a harem’
one bed, top of a jerry-built block
of council flats in Haringey had scant appeal
“Watcha Mister, don’t mind if I sit with you? I’ve just bounced off a distant Sun and it didn’t even scorch my knicker elastic…how impressive is that?” So said, the young lady who appeared
out of nowhere, with the look of a gregarious personage about her being
she did though, have beguiling chocolate eyes and a smile that never took rest
a painfully shy man, he merely nodded a tight-lipped affirmative
“What year is it?” A bizarre question
“1962…18th September,” his less than confident riposte
In a posh, posh voice, “Botheration, I was hoping it was August 2nd 2027…jolly good eclipse on that day. Mind, you’ll need to be in Cairo to see it properly. Have you ever travelled to The Milky Way?”
“Tell you what…take hold of my hands, shut your eyes and I’ll take you there…it’s so nice to be back in the known universe!”
Against all odds in his narrowest realm, a quiet and self-conscious man
had unwittingly chanced upon a demonstrative time-traveller
henceforth, he would never have need of a pet cat, junk food and drab ruminations
39 thoughts on “A CHANCE ENCOUNTER”
Wow, the graphic/photo is nice and the words are deep and beautiful.
Thanks or that Joel…appreciated
You’re welcome Mike.
A sort of justice, I’d say! I really like this.
Cheers young lady
Where is a delightful time traveller when you need one. I say that with a mind of one whose view of life is jaundiced by the presence of Mourinho at Manchester United. It only being six minutes past three, only a time traveller could tell me if he will be booed on his return to Chelsea
Save for the set up of the team in the first half, I don’t put this one all down to Mourinho. You were defending in the manner of The Arsenal on an off day…I kept thinking ‘Ferdinand’ and ‘Scholes’! A number of those players, I suspect will be gone in January. Oh, the torture of a football fan, why do we do it!
Just watched the game so you can imagine my thoughts. Almost feel sorry for Mourinho.
Darn! That’s what stinks about time travel! Forgetting what year you’re in! That and being hopelessly stuck in the 80’s!
Well that, plus missing the unknown universe…I miss it all the time
I love this.
The lady made me think of my fair lady.
The rain on Mars falls mainly on the stars!
That’s a nice rhyme almost like the one in the movies.
Just beautiful Mike. Truly lovely xx
Fine story. An argument against the possibility of time travel technology in the future: How come nobody ever visits us from the future like your gal? Possibly humans will have obtained good sense and don’t want to see the current lot.
Perhaps it is because we never invented a machine that can travel faster than the speed of life…a necessity if one is to travel back in time!
Actually, I once attended a boring lecture, where a time warp was created, and when I walked out the clock said it was last Wednesday.
You could be onto something there…living proof that within boredom there is magic. I shall have to think about this!
It’s something to think about, and it’ll keep you off the streets for a while.
Bollocks, I was just off for an evening ramble along The White Cliffs…mind, in the darkness could have been the ed.
So of course all I can think of is “Wimpy burger! We’re watching Popeye cartoons with the kids! Coincidence? I THINK NOT!”
But it ends with love and the promise of adventure, as any good union should. 🙂
We used to have a postman who was the dead ringer for Bluto!
We’re still trying to figure out what the relationship is with Sweet Pea, Olive Oil, and Popeye. It’s never really explained, that…
I’d hate to be stuck with Olive…what a voice! It would send me insane. I was sat outside a café in Folkestone on Sunday morning, and the pretty little waitress turned up with my boring de-caf plus Shirl’s proper coffee (I was allowed to sniff the aroma) and we nearly fell apart laughing (hid it though) at the gal’s high pitched voice…never heard the like of it!
Oh, that poor girl! And poor you–de-caf? Oh honey, I feel like I should wear a black armband for you.
I do rather miss my coffee I must say. 3 months now without it…I did get served one mistakenly the other day and was instantly ill…luckily, on trips to France the de-caff is acceptably.
I’ll remember that: France is the place for decaff–if one must. 🙂
I would take upon that invite in a heartbeat!
So generous of her to pick up a random, self-conscious man who is considering joining the soviets, and show him the known Universe! Beautiful poem.
A strange piece written in 15 minutes (unusual for me, normally it takes me hours to write even a first line). I was going to keep it on that old shelf in the back of my head yet my wife when proof reading it said she liked it!
It is because she has a good taste 🙂
I like a lot this poem, it could have different significations depend always of the experiences that a person has had
Thanks for that…truly appreciated
So imaginative! Well done
Thank you Christy B