Wednesday, December 1, 2010

335. A fish out of water


Gaston guns his scooter to the max. The sun is shining. There is a light breeze wafting.

‘I could not ask for better, so why do I feel like throwing it all in?’

He checks the rear mirror to ensure he knows the dynamics at play. Judging distances and speed carefully, he executes a gentle swan dive behind the oncoming Lexus. He returns to the vertical and heads off down Merlin Street.

‘I like my job. I like my apartment. There is enough interest from the chicks to keep my hand in.’

He checks the road surface, before going up and over the culvert, the only entry into Gaussman Lane, avoiding the hole gouged out by the recent heavy downpour.

‘Hah!’

He brings the scooter to an easy stop and eases the helmet off his head. He shakes his head, and gives his hair a ruffle.

‘Not enough irrational chaos’.

3 comments:

Joan Elizabeth said...

So true to life ... just when things get orderly we want for more or different.

Julie said...

And that may be the way it is supposed to be ...

rallentanda said...

The Gerbe d'Or has never been as good since Francois left ( a good thing for those addicted to real French patisserie and gaing weight at a rapid rate)