November 2008

Once upstairs in the station proper John and Keller reported to the shift Sergeant and handed in their daily reports. Then it was on to the locker rooms, changed and down to the basement car-park. John got into his old and battered Datsun and in a cloud of blue oil smoke left for home. On his way out of the basement he stopped at the security checkpoint and the police officer on duty jokingly quipped about John’s old car blowing up one day.

Who needs family anyway? thought John, as he moved to his car. I’m better off on my own. This had become John’s litany of self-reinvention after the explosion of personalities that had taken place between himself and his father. His mother didn’t seem to care one way or the other and hadn’t even bothered to try and make contact with him after he had left home. That was 18 months ago now.

Now that he thought about it he noticed those things that would have been obvious to a blind person. What bachelor would have pastel coloured drapes and a vase of fresh flowers on the table? Come to think of it, he thought as he passed the lounge room, what bachelor would have a rocking chair with a chintz covered cushion on it?