I can’t believe it! I simply can’t believe it! Last weekend of the holidays already. What have I been doing? What have I done? What did I do? Nothing! That is why it is called holiday; you don’t do anything. Christmas was boring, boxing day was boring, New Year’s Eve … boring.
Yesterday I made a Facebook page. My Grandma told me to do it. She says I am too ‘socially awkward’ and should really get some friends and Facebook seems to be all the rage. I don’t really know what all the fuzz is about. It took me nearly two hours to figure out everything and still I have no friends. Turned out you have to find ‘friends’ and ‘add’ them like as if I am in a supermarket and putting friends in my shopping cart. What is this shit?
Anyways, I left off in the middle of my story yesterday. Mr Bent was about to get to the good part. He is a bit of a slow talker, but it makes the stories sound so much eerier. Wish I had a voice like his. Must practise that as well. So, let’s pick it up just after Philip got hanged.
‘As I said, news has a way of travelling fast, but this news never seemed to have reached Philip’s sister Sarah. One day she walked into that bank and asked one of the clerks if she could see her brother. The clerk, unknowingly, told Sarah the whole story about how Philip was accused of being a forger, about the trial at the Old Bailey and about the hanging. Which, as you can understand, might not have been his smartest move.
Sarah was shocked; she was horrified. The news struck her as lightning, yet, she couldn’t believe it was true. Her brain more or less short-circuited. Why had nobody told her? Why wasn’t she at the trial? Why wasn’t she at the hanging? All these ‘why, why, why’ questions must have driven her mad.
The following day she showed up at the bank again. She was dressed in black and she was wearing a black veil. It was as if she was really mourning her brother’s death. But … (pause for dramatic effect) … she walked up to one of the clerks and she asked if she could see her brother, Philip, as he worked at the bank and she wanted to speak to him. Of course, the clerk was puzzled. He must have tried his best to get it through to her that her brother was dead and therefore could not be working at the bank; they don’t employ dead people. Every day that followed Sarah walked into that bank, dressed in the same black clothes, saying,’ Have you seen my brother?’.’
This is where Mr Bent got up, walked to the window and stared outside for a bit. The weather was getting bad. Like in real horror films. It started raining and the wind started to howl a little. He was staring out of the window as if in deep thought, sipping the last of his tea, not minding the biscuit. It was almost as if he heard her say it at that very moment and he just couldn’t bare it.
I’m sorry, the story does go on, but my stomach is calling me. I’m in desperate need of food. Hopefully I have time to report back later, we’re going out today. We’re going to have lunch at my favourite café. Though I’m not really sure if I can mention the name here, but it has the best mint-shakes in town and they do the best free-range egg sandwiches in the world (as for as I know). Mind you, they have to be put under the grill, because I hate cold eggs! See you later.