The Bendy Ruler
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Christiana Russell had always loved rural Cardiff with its dirty, diced ditches. It was a place where she felt shocked.
She was a selfish, stingy, beer drinker with dirty abs and ample eyebrows. Her friends saw her as a grubby, gentle giant. Once, she had even revived a dying, baby. That’s the sort of woman he was.
Christiana walked over to the window and reflected on her cozy surroundings. The moon shone like a drinking goldfish.
Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Harold Rabbit. Harold was an understanding bear with curvaceous abs and red eyebrows. His forehead fur made him look sympathetic-seeming, kind, tender…
Christi went out into the hallway just to be sure that it really wasn’t some ghostly visitation from another age by herself when she heard someone say: ‘Jesus H.’
She came back inside as quickly as possible before anyone else could come along because the last thing you wanted if you were ever faced with something that wasn’t human at all but still looked humanoid, is for there to be more than one of them together.
Then everyone would start shoving each other around so they didn’t get accidentally crushed against glass windows and wood doors whilst trying to keep their shit intact!
No matter how lovely those early spring nights might turn out to be, after dark sometimes every single light everywhere started shining up through everything and starting fights between people and animals, especially bear (you can never trust anything that comes in black) who thought things couldn’t possibly have gotten any darker.
When she opened the front door wide enough that it stood open just wide enough to let something that should go outside safely slip indoors instead without bumping his head too much then, no sooner than this, a young deer appeared in front of Christiana.
He – or rather I suppose perhaps we ought to call him “he” – stuttered and fainted gently right behind the glass doormat because he’d been walking across it so fast! However, now she became concerned about whether maybe these weren’t such easygoing times anymore, and when suddenly, an angry coyote swarmed under her feet which actually only hurt badly for five seconds, not exactly worth losing your sleep over as far as I’m personally concerned.
And anyway, dear me … oh my god! What could that old lady have said? Did she think he was actually gay? Of course, neither of us is—
It took forever for them to take him away. Jesus had apparently pushed Harold down onto his face again somewhere on Main Street just outside Mrs. Tompkins’s café, still unconscious because although it was two thirty in the morning hardly anybody had woken up yet except for one person asleep in front of the television with four dogs and six cats huddled round watching too.
Poor Harold hadn’t even understood why anybody would try pushing another human being onto the floor unless the perpetrator believed they deserved absolutely nothing better. For what it’s worth though – judging by the look on those children’s faces when they first noticed the police cars stopping near our building -they both seemed grateful enough afterward when Harold finally regained consciousness. This happened during breakfast time!
There was a lot going on yesterday afternoon but that was because somebody must have filled the bin bag full of dogshit with about three times the volume required! Not so surprising given how much material animal waste might constitute …
That’s precisely what put Harold out flat when he fell in. It takes quite an effort to drive home the point that life is too short not to be lived well. If you’re already doing all right then next year, maybe make sure you find yourself something to enjoy whenever possible. You certainly don’t want to miss anything, ever! A strong man could lift the garbage lid off its hinges pretty damn easy to dig up all that lost treasure.
Now, this isn’t like stealing sweets or pinching a neighbor’s newspaper from the front porch either… Do you know any robber or mugger who wouldn’t tell anybody at all if they ran into one or several men covered in green slime?
Yeah, neither did I until recently! This story has implications. They live beneath the surface – the evil side of the ocean where most of the city’s rubbish goes and why you won’t see one fish anywhere these days –and eat it straight out of the dustbin!
But apparently, that particular recipe tastes revolting compared to almost every other tasty morsel in the world which gives them an advantage nobody ever wants to tackle! Imagine their reaction if a ravenous wolf pups a little too close to town!
Would there ever be any need for alarm bells ringing? Of course, we shouldn’t forget to mention that today marks the day of Harold Rabbitts’ death and passing onwards towards a happier afterlife.
We pray for his spirit and ask God for strength and love for everyone involved here. Asking for forgiveness seems sensible to ensure none of the animals get hanged, drawn, and quartered after everything else happens and hopefully, lives will change for the better.
Goodbye everybody … farewell till next time. Sometimes it pays to leave before the party ends so others aren’t forced to stay longer than necessary while things get sorted through by professionals instead.
There are ways to do the job properly without making enemies everywhere or making more work for people as soon as new faces arrive in case any dangerous objects are left behind following such a devastating incident.
Believe us when we say no one wants to bury a good friend who should’ve known better … Until then… keep smiling … the sun always rises tomorrow! No matter how long we spend working, there’s never any harm in taking time away once in a while. The office stays tidy between cleaning staff changes and every now and then something needs a rest.
We checked whether the door was locked; it wasn’t, but nevertheless, the policemen didn’t turn back and proceeded confidently inside. At least, most of them turned around when I gave directions rather calmly after explaining how Mr. Harold Rabbitt got buried under bags of trash left on top of the container (and why they couldn’t possibly open its doors).
From what I recall hearing later, my voice alone helped convince each member of the public to carefully avoid stepping foot outdoors and risk having me ‘taken in’. Ah, yes. Indeed. Nobody wanted that happening!
They agreed this sort of behavior was against common decency! Some people asked for photos as souvenirs in order to be remembered well! When were friends going to show up? All the better! Five minutes ago! Thank you very much for your hospitality, girls! Hurrah! Lovey! Salute! Amen!
Three teenagers standing behind the large wheelbarrow continued talking in loud voices while watching the police go through our building: ‘Those fucking cops. Where’d they come from?’
A fourth teenager, wearing a yellow waistcoat over his old pajamas, quietly muttered while shaking his head, walking further and further away toward the edge of Main Street ‘I don’t think they want to hear that.’ ‘Too bad. Shouldn’t they report stuff like that?! Do you expect anyone to actually care what they witness tonight? To hell with them!’
‘They seem kind of cool …’ said a boy whose white shirt stood out particularly clearly since only part of the shoulder straps appeared to fit. He looked at where everyone’s eyes stared now: four tall policemen who had put their equipment into three cardboard boxes.
They passed by all those eager civilians staring at every little step they took. One policeman opened one box… he lifted two large and heavy batteries on high shoulders so everyone could see they wore some sort of bulky protective gear… another soldier unlocked one rusted handcart loaded down with empty cans.
A third approached a smaller cardboard box nearby. Once again everyone watched attentively. Finally, once more putting everything exactly right, and quite expertly too considering it hadn’t been long since arriving here and never set foot outside the compound before that – as if being ordered to do so – each man lowered both hands slowly and positioned himself just perfectly enough not to get dirt in any crack between his palms or fingernails while grabbing onto an appropriate handle.
With visible effort, almost due to tension that made him wince yet smile at the same time, they rolled forward on six wheels: eight strong legs pushing harder than ever, ready to carry as much weight uphill as required.
In unison, the two soldiers stepped backward looking proudly back at us. Each carried twenty-two bags full of recycling without breaking pace although the climb was certainly much steeper than before; it would have taken half of that number simply to bring all the trash in.
Those brave men emptied nine hundred kilos per minute, every single second of that short journey upwards until reaching the entrance, which did take longer because the street had gotten narrower compared to earlier. However, there was no one else parked next to that truck that looked strangely light despite weighing several tons. That vehicle belonged solely to these diligent troopers.
The elderly woman across the street peered intently first left then right before lowering her head slightly while rapidly opening and closing the gate separating her yard from the lane beyond it, leaning closer this way or that making sure nobody jumped off unexpectedly; she obviously anticipated trouble.
Then suddenly, as quickly and skillfully as someone carrying multiple parcels with big arms, even though visibly tiring, she tipped backward just about bending backward herself to create space underneath the fence while climbing atop it; laying prone below all along as soon as possible, taking advantage of their own surprise and mine to act swiftly before anything unexpected might happen.
Before anyone could react. Now! Jumping down to the ground right before entering a tunnel beneath, we entered a backyard covered by huge plants to find ourselves on a quiet garden path heading for the front gate hidden far beneath the house on either side; from what I overheard afterwards that backyard, in fact, contained many other people’s yards, such a small area needed to contain a couple dozen different houses crammed together, to say nothing of gardens everywhere.
While running barefoot in tight clothes that hindered movement considerably, I managed to enter unnoticed by locking myself within the dense vegetation hiding me completely: a thick branch acting in place of a staircase and pulling at times really hard when tugged while still leaving sufficient room to squeeze in past the window bars on my way down the exterior brick walls towards the inner courtyard below.
Yet, it seemed clear as day that the real target remained within our old apartment complex: it must be impossible that after delivering the final batch of garbage, including broken glass mixed among the paper products according to instructions of course!
It hadn’t reached the garage near the lift. What happened is that the owner never arrived and so, instead of disposing of everything properly and doing a thorough job cleaning up inside, and presumably wasting taxpayers’ money and manpower, the clean-up brigade had dumped all their loads in some closet somewhere and hurried away.
That allowed me to explore. Very well hidden. Quite smartly designed also – on top of having seen all there was to see downstairs already.
A spot where old bikes, bicycles, hand tools, and chains lay scattered throughout grass growing wild around the doorway, alongside discarded rags; doors barely hanging from hinges but appearing abandoned anyway; planks and wood remnants piled under the doorways covering everything with dust that surrounded them completely as I climbed to the second level while trying not to touch anything for fear of spreading unwanted particles elsewhere.
This place had not suffered long years of disuse – just recently deserted by its former occupants? Only those whose apartments weren’t stolen or otherwise vandalized were moving on immediately, collecting belongings during lunchtime break when others played loud music blaring out their windows while passing cars honked loudly, chasing off some more unlucky residents seeking refuge, shooing pets, kicking holes through walls while drunkenly tripping over stairs and stumbling out with shopping baskets, stealing mail addressed directly at this unit or that …