Pigeon Leg

Damn near tore my arm open on the 11ft chicken-wire tree that’s standing in the centre of my living room. A cat on the uppermost branch is looking down at me and laughing. Can cats laugh? This one seems to have an evil streak. I was sitting in the park today and a pigeon landed on my leg and just looked at me for a while before flying off. 28 years and that’s never happened to me. Anyway, here is the first instalment from my novel (Lorrylee...) as promised. I have chosen a page at random so don’t try and piece these together chronologically cause it won’t make a crumb of sense – not that it would anyway:

Lorrylee (or) Mindless Silence (an extract*)

He turns the corner onto Stephenson street. A black bin-bag lies in the centre of the road. The bag looks full. david lines himself up with the bag. A millisecond before he kicks the bag it moves. He kicks it a millisecond later. The bag squeals and begins to cry. david gets off his bike and approaches the crying bin-bag, which is now convulsing. He carefully opens it up and looks inside. A pair of yellow eyes look at him from the darkness.

‘You kicked me’ say the eyes.

‘You were in the road.’

The eyes close slowly. For a second it is dark in the bag. Then the eyes are there again.

‘Why did you kick me?’

‘What are you doing in a bag?’

‘I was sleeping.’

‘But why in a bag?’

‘I couldn’t find a box. Now I’m sore.’

‘You shouldn’t be in the road.’

‘Please let me out of this bag. I think you’ve knackered my back up.’

david lifts the corner of the bag and the fox spills out onto the road. He has only three legs.

‘What happened to your leg?’

‘I lost it’ says the fox.

‘What d’you mean you lost it?’

‘I lost it’ repeats the fox, still lying in the road.

‘When?’

‘Yesterday.’

‘You lost your leg yesterday?’

‘Yes. Wait…what day was yesterday?’

‘Tuesday.’

‘Oh…In that case I lost it today.’

‘Why aren’t you bleeding?’

‘What d’you mean?’

‘If you lost your leg you should be bleeding.’

‘I said I lost it. It wasn’t chopped off or anything.’

David looks confused.

‘It was a complete leg’ says the fox, as an explanation.

‘So where did you lose it?’

The fox shakes his head.

‘If I knew that I’d be able to find it?’

The fox tries to get up. His legs tremble and his body turns a complete circle in the road.

‘You’ve really buggered my back,’ he groans. ‘I can’t even get up.’

‘You can’t get up because you only have three legs, not because your back’s buggered.’

‘Help me up.’

David puts his hands underneath the fox and hoists him up. The fox wobbles but manages to stay on his feet.

‘Thank you’ he says, hobbling across the road. ‘I’ll see you soon.’

And with that he dives into a bush.

(* Taken from pages 73-74)