Post by dk223 on Sept 9, 2006 15:18:55 GMT
Posted here as well as the other place as I'm a post wh0re ;D
"Please do not feed the animals" the sign said, "They are quite capable of going to the canteen like the rest of us" someone had added in marker pen below it. Bert sighed and adjusted hid work belt as he knelt down to wipe off the graffiti.
"Bloody kids," he grumbled as he wiped at that sign, "No respect, none of them." He paused for a few seconds to see if the marker pen was coming off. It wasn't.
"Why in my day" he said to no one in particular, "In my day they would have been down the pit working dawn till dusk just to get a scrap of bread. And that, and that..." he continued, "That was only on the proviso that they came back the next day!" He stopped again and looked at the sign, the marker pen was still there clear as day.
Putting a hand on his ailing back he slowly rose, "It's no good" he grumbled, "It's going to take a lot to shift that." Standing with his hands on his hips he surveyed the area around him, people milled about in this and that direction. Bert shook his head in dismay.
"Some people don't know how lucky they are" He sighed "When I were a lad going to the zoo was a once in a lifetime treat" He slowly made his was to his workshed at the back of the park, he continued to talk to no one as he walked. "Kids these days don't know their born, mobile this, hand held that, why when I was young it was a hoop and a stick and you made do, sometimes it was just a stick" He said as he wagged his finger in no ones direction.
As he neared his workshed he started to talk more quietly, his voice didn't sound as strong as it had done back by the sign, "Bert" he addressed himself, "You're not as young as you used to be" reaching out with a hand that looked frail in the dim light he flicked on the switch that illuminated the dull bare bulb that hung from the ceiling. Easing himself down in his chair he picked up the now cold cup of tea from where he left it and cradled it in both hands.
His eyes glazed over as he sat in the gloom of his dusty workshed, a single tear rolled down his cheek and dropped silently to the floor.
"Please do not feed the animals" the sign said, "They are quite capable of going to the canteen like the rest of us" someone had added in marker pen below it. Bert sighed and adjusted hid work belt as he knelt down to wipe off the graffiti.
"Bloody kids," he grumbled as he wiped at that sign, "No respect, none of them." He paused for a few seconds to see if the marker pen was coming off. It wasn't.
"Why in my day" he said to no one in particular, "In my day they would have been down the pit working dawn till dusk just to get a scrap of bread. And that, and that..." he continued, "That was only on the proviso that they came back the next day!" He stopped again and looked at the sign, the marker pen was still there clear as day.
Putting a hand on his ailing back he slowly rose, "It's no good" he grumbled, "It's going to take a lot to shift that." Standing with his hands on his hips he surveyed the area around him, people milled about in this and that direction. Bert shook his head in dismay.
"Some people don't know how lucky they are" He sighed "When I were a lad going to the zoo was a once in a lifetime treat" He slowly made his was to his workshed at the back of the park, he continued to talk to no one as he walked. "Kids these days don't know their born, mobile this, hand held that, why when I was young it was a hoop and a stick and you made do, sometimes it was just a stick" He said as he wagged his finger in no ones direction.
As he neared his workshed he started to talk more quietly, his voice didn't sound as strong as it had done back by the sign, "Bert" he addressed himself, "You're not as young as you used to be" reaching out with a hand that looked frail in the dim light he flicked on the switch that illuminated the dull bare bulb that hung from the ceiling. Easing himself down in his chair he picked up the now cold cup of tea from where he left it and cradled it in both hands.
His eyes glazed over as he sat in the gloom of his dusty workshed, a single tear rolled down his cheek and dropped silently to the floor.
and yes I did write it 