'An Unfortunate Occurrence'

'An Unfortunate Occurrence'

This is based on a true story. It was a small article in the newspaper of about 50 words or so, but something struck me about it, so I cut it out from the paper and so a month later I decided to write something about.

Harry arrived at the office at 9:17 a.m, twenty seven minutes later than he should have been. “Are they in there?” He said to the receptionist Alice.
“They came in about five minute ago, so it won’t be too bad.” She said.
“Christ…” He said and put his coat behind the desk.
“Harry, how did-”
“The tube was complete chaos. Some idiot causing trouble and waving a knife about. Terrible.”
“You’ve got-”
“Yes, terrible. Is the case file in my office?”
“Harry, please you’ve got-”
“It’s ok, I can see it.” He said and picked up the Johnson’s case file from Alice’s desk. He straightened up his tie and said, “I don’t look too rushed, do I?”
“Harry, listen to me, there’s a-”
“No time for chat, Alice. I’m already half an hour late.”
He walked through the reception to the door with his name upon it and opened it. The Johnsons sat on one side of his desk. “My apologises,” Harry said, “For keeping you waiting so long.” Mr. Johnson stood up and Harry shook his hand. He nodded at Mrs. Johnson.
Harry moved around them to the other side of the desk and sat down in his chair. He felt an uncomfortable pain in his back. He’d had back problems the previous year and it’d kept him off work for a month. He decided to just grin and bear it. “Now,” He said opening the Johnson’s case file, “We’ve spoken with the firms accountants and…”
“Mr. Matthews?” Mrs. Johnson interrupted.
“Yes?”
“Are you… alright?”
“Well… yes… why?”
Mr. Johnson said, “It’s just that,” He looked at his wife and she looked back, “You’ve got a knife in your back…”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You’ve got a knife in your back.” Said Mrs. Johnson, “It’s sticking out.”
“Is there?”
The Johnsons nodded. Harry reached around and touched his back. His fingers moved up the jacket, finding nothing. He turned around and said, “Whereabouts is…”
“Up a bit,” Mrs. Johnson said, “And too the left.”
“Thank you.” He said. He followed Mrs. Johnson’s directions and his fingers brushed against metal. “Oh,” He said, “Have I got it?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh. Right… well…”
“Do you,” Mr. Johnson said, “Want me to take it out?”
“Oh no, no that’s alright. I think it’s probably best to get a doctor and, er, call an ambulance. Excuse me.” He said. He pressed a button on the intercom on his desk. “Alice?”
“Yes, Mr. Matthews?” Came a fuzzy voice.
“Could you… call me an ambulance?”
“Of course. Right away.”
“Thank you.” He switched the intercom off. He tried to lean back but felt a sting.
He cleared his throat and looked across at the concerned faces of the Johnson’s. He gave them a reassuring smile.
“How did you…” Mr. Johnson said.
“I’m… not sure replied.” He replied. “There was somebody on the tube this morning with a knife, causing trouble, so I can only suppose… I was in a rush, you see. I don’t like being late, never have done.”
“No?”
“No. Never liked it, so maybe I just… didn’t feel it. Yes.”
Silence hung over the three. Mrs. Johnson drummed her fat fingers on her handbag. Mr Johnson looked at the ceiling.
Mrs. Johnson said, “Would you like us to come back another time?”
“I suppose that if you see Alice you could rearrange another time… how about next Tuesday for you?”
“I’m working Tuesday.” Mr. Johnson said.
“Unfortunately Tuesday’s the best day for me that week, but the week after is a lot better- the week beginning the 20th?”
“We’re free on the Wednesday…” Mrs. Johnson said.
“Yes I think Wednesday should be fine.” Mr. Johnson said.
“Excellent, then if you speak to Alice on the way out she can book your appointment.” Harry smiled then said, “We could always have a quick chat about your situation now if you wanted?”
“Are you… sure?”
“Yes, I don’t see why not.”
“Even with the, erm…” Mr. Johnson said.
“It’s inconvenient, well it is for me, but you two shouldn’t have to be inconvenienced also.”
Mrs. Johnson said, “Well the ambulance won’t be that long…”
“Well it might be good just to give you an o-”
“Mr. Matthews? Are you ok?”
He smiled as reassuringly as he could at them, “Please excuse me,” He said politely, “But I’m going to faint.”
And that he did.

Imagist

This is my attempt at Imagisim.


To A Dancer in Paris, 1892
From your audience-
I leave you a note
Under an empty glass
On my table.