Tired of Waiting

Dank claustrophobic air clung to the walls, smothering the bereft
furniture. The empty chair next to the empty fireplace begged to be sat
on. The lounge curtains unopened for weeks unwillingly cloaked the
room, denying passing eyes. Only the clock on the mantlepiece dare
announce itself and strode on as if nothing had happened - ignorant of
the present, dismissive of the past, concerned only with the
future.

The carpet had conspired with the chair and the curtains, but the door
with its wide opened mouth betrayed them. Through the bright red
letterbox the postman pushed brown and white envelopes, jubillantly
coloured pizza leaflets and personal invitations for instant money. On
one occasion a calling card accompanied the usual.

At approximately 3.00 pm on a Wednesday afternoon Dora Wilson was
discovered dead in her own front room face down on the carpet. Tired of
waiting for her cheque, and unperturbed by unanswered letters and
calls, the local plumber had acquired the regulatory court injunction
and was able to break and enter her home. After taking her tv as
payment in kind the intruder informed social services.

The furniture was removed by a firm specialising in circumstantial
house clearances and Dora was given an assisted passage out of her
stale and stagnant world.

An Iranian refugee moved into the small damp flat. A clock on the
mantlepiece greeted him. It ticks away whilst Farshid studies English,
writes home to his mother and looks forward to a better life.