Stuff what I wrote [a tribute to Ernie Wise]
Something I wrote for an actual writing class that I managed to attend [mostly]. One person suggested it was plagiarism which was a tad upsetting, mainly because it isn’t. On reflection [that’s a theme of mine] I decided that it was a compliment of sorts, in that it was good enough to have been plagiarised. Fairly sure it wasn’t meant that way but…
“It’s bingo[i] this afternoon, that rather flabby young man who has a heart of gold and the intelligence of a long dead rabbit. We could get lucky of course and his car breaks down. I’d ask for God to intervene but that’s considered a bit of a faux par for an atheist[ii].
I hate looking out these windows; nothing changes but the seasons, same tree, same bench, same everything. George Evans used to sit on that bench every day, at least until he escaped, sneaky bugger caught Covid and didn’t have the decency to pass it on before he passed on!
I was talking to my Billy last night, wasn’t sure he could hear me at first, until I heard him say his favourite punchline; “No wonder your last husband left you![iii]” Dead these fourteen years, and I can still hear his voice, feel his arms around me; feel his breath against my neck. I wish I could tell him I will see him soon, but there’s that bloody atheist faux par thing again!
Maybe I will get unlucky in the bingo, win another empty photo album[iv] or even worse, a jigsaw. A bottle of wine on the other hand; perhaps I will await our young friend with bated breath.”[v]
[i] Bingo is me, I called bingo in the past, I even have a gambling licence for it. It is also my cousin, who out of the goodness of his golden heart voluntarily does bingo afternoons – in retirement homes.
[ii] This is also me, I am an atheist, have been since about fourteen. I also occasionally talk to a non-existent god, mostly in my head, perfectly normal then.
[iii] This is my line, it was a risky one, I wasn’t sure if my wife would laugh or beat me up, fortunately she laughed. There is another one; “No wonder you next husband left the Island”, goes down well too.
[iv] I won an empty photo album in a raffle, not that long ago, at a concert by the Gilbert & Sullivan society. In this age of digital photography, it’s still empty.
[v] I read this time and time again trying to find some point of plagiarism, no luck. It did occur to me that someone might imagine it was similar to an Alan Bennett monologue. It isn’t, Alan Bennett is in a class of his own. This was purely me, and now it’s buggered due to a single remark and mistrust of others.