Street Life

Well, at the time, few – if any of us – really noticed it all that much. That is the thing with living in a place like this; people are not quite sure what is the best thing to do about it. After all, it could be none of our business, and no-one wants to look as if they are prying, especially into matters that do not concern them.

Most too, as they later said, assumed it was some sort of local council initiative they had not heard about. Such ‘initiatives’ are not that unusual. I can remember when they replaced our traditional bins with wheelie bins. They arrived on our drives and doorsteps like some alien invading army appearing from nowhere.

In fact, that is how most people in our street approached the new bins. As if expecting the strange upright plastic monstrosities to demand to be taken to our leader, and – to a man and/or woman - wondering who our leader would be. Except her from number 22, of course who, naturally to her, has always assumed she is our leader. Why, no one-knows, or dares disabuse her.

Anyway, there it (or should it be they?) lay there in the middle of the road with each passer-by noting it (them), some even paused to take a closer look. Old Joe from number 45 even went up close and poked it (them) with his walking stick, before furtively looking around and walking away as briskly as he could manage before anyone accused him of being responsible.

After all, these days, no-one ever wants to admit responsibility, not for anything – just in case.

So, there they lay for several hours in the middle of the road. Meanwhile, everyone waited to see what would happen and who would be the one to break and – foolishly, we knew – go and do something about them (it).

Even so, we all still cringed every time a vehicle came close to them. For I don’t know if you’ve ever heard the sound of some lost or discarded bagpipes as they are run over, but – believe me – it is not a sound you are ever likely to forget.

Still, they were there when night came and we all – with relief – closed our curtains on the problem. Each hoping that in the morning, the problem would be solved and the discarded, or lost, bagpipes would be gone.

Which they were….

Thankfully.

 

[Books by David Hadley are available here (UK) or here (US)]