Flip Flop Flying

This guy

without comments

So, there’s this guy. One day he did some washing. He got the stuff out of the washing machine, grabbed his keys, and got ready to take the stuff up to the clothes line on the roof of his building. He did a wee trump before he left the flat, then opened the door. His next door neighbour–a female lady woman–was just coming out of her flat. They exchanged good mornings and both stood by the elevator. She wanted to go to the ground floor, he to the roof. They stood there in silence for a moment. He thought he should just take the stairs to the roof. He realised he could smell his wee trump. It had followed him out of the flat. Should he just go? He was embarrassed. There’s no way she couldn’t also smell it. Oops. What was he to do? Stay in the lift with his wet laundry in his arms all the way to the ground floor then all the way back up to the roof, with the knowledge of the wee trump there in front of them both? No, that’d be dumb.

“I need to go to the roof,” he said.
“Okay, bye,” she said.

He went to the roof and felt terrible. He called himself an idiot. A fucking idiot. A stupid fucking idiot.

He never wanted to bump into his neighbour again. The next day he wrote a letter to the landlord, packed his stuff up, moved out, left the city, got on a plane, flew to another county where he’d never trumped before, rented a shack in the middle of nowhere and now he trumps in peace.

Written by Craig

October 1st, 2014 at 5:29 pm

Posted in Blah blah,Stories

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