Fish

Woke up to the smell of fish, not nice, sniffed
under the bedsheets. Was'nt me. Got up and
remembered my Vespa, felt sad again. Noticed
the smell of fish was rank and over-powering.
Followed the smell to the hall, either my postman
has gone nuts or somebody has poured a rotten
can of pilchards through my letter box. Could'nt
be postie, too early. But fish? Yuck.
I scratched my head, I know he trashed my scooter,
but I could'nt imagine Jeff doing anything so lame.
Decided to go to work, after all most people have
to brave the perverts on the tube. I was never going
to be able to afford a 1960's Vespa and even if I
did, it would'nt be like my aunt Pat's. Spiked my hair
into interesting little twists, I looked cute and funky.
But it was'nt my hair wished it would grow quicker!
Good Friday, oh gawd Fish on Friday! Someone
has a sick sense of humour. Maybe it was just
kids (bad ones with those baggy trousers no doubt).
But my gut feeling was ominous . I would have to
phone Jeff later jsut to rule him out, I just hoped
that he would'nt turn up in a rage again. Maybe I
would ask Alan to stay with me at least that way I
will be safe. Fancy being frightened of a fishy mess,
nearly gagged cleaning it up though. Most shops are
closed today, but we are open (of course) felt
very belligerant on the train.
Could it be Jeff? He might be a shit, nah can't
see it.
Becka (warily)Martin