I didn’t think yesterday could get any weirder, but it did.
I had turned up at our local surgery in time for my blood test. I was sitting there, thinking how pleasant a place it was, with the colourful tiles on the floor and comfortable chairs. They had gone to a lot of trouble to ensure they gave a good impression…
I suddenly became aware of a man standing at reception. A very tall, slender person, clad head to toe in black leather. He had his back to me, so I couldn’t see his face. What I could see, though, was a mane of cotton candy pink hair.
He spoke softly to the receptionist, his words not carrying over to me. Still, I could tell he was being polite by the look on the receptionist’s face.
I hoped he would turn around before I was called, as I desperately wanted to see the whole picture.
When he turned to leave, I saw his face. He was wearing beautifully applied makeup in a gothic style. The ebony lines around his intensely blue eyes had me mesmerised. It was like looking at one of those fashion magazines.
It’s not usually something you see in our doctor’s surgery, but it made my day.
Back home, for another round of frustration at the computer, I kept remembering his face and assumed that was the extent of today’s weirdness.
Later that evening, we were relaxing with a movie when a loud bang made us jump. We live on a busy main road, and traffic problems are an everyday occurrence, but in the 15 years we have lived here, we have not had one pile up outside our window.
I have always worried about this, as opposite us is a side road, also very busy but poorly lit. In my imagination, I have seen a car careening across the road and ending up in our living room. Is that what had finally nearly happened?
Of course, the movie was abandoned as we watched to see if help was needed. A white car, driven by an older woman, had been driving along the main road. Coming from the side road, a smaller black car had hit her side on, shunting the white car sideways.
As we watched, people came out of houses and passing cars stopped to help, leaving their headlights on to illuminate the scene. Everyone was on their phones, so we expected the boys in blue to arrive soon.
It was like watching a disaster movie right outside our window.
So many people were now milling around, some wanting to help, others arguing whose fault it was. Many photographs were taken, mainly by the owner of the black car, who constantly stated it wasn’t her fault.
The police arrived ten minutes after someone had taken the badly shaken older woman away.