Friday, 1 July 2016

Lost in Depreston

Boss had sent Grift on a mission to service and uplift the suburban souls. Grift the great lift repairman had fallen. He had failed. Grift was lost. 

A victim of satnav expelled from the city where all good lift men belong. Grift panicked a little. Then he panicked a little bit more before driving outwards in a slightly reckless fashion.

Grift belonged in the sky, here there was no sky.  A panorama of single level existence made him squint and circle the block again. Lost, lost, lost and more lost! 

There was a lot of lost in this neighbourhood. How did the people ever get home for their dinners? 

In desperation Grift admitted to himself that he was lost, the situation hopeless, out of hand and beyond his control. Happy with giving up Grift grimaced, pulled over and asked for directions. 

The gardener was a smelly helpful man. When his lawnmower stopped Grift heard his hemorrhoids growing and the squeak of a worn out pacemaker. 

The gardener pointed and waved his arms around a lot to help him speak. He talked of the old days when this was all a farm. The gardener explained all about milking cows and fondly remembered a good old dog and a nice neighbourly girl he used to know. 

The gardener shook his head at progress, chuckled at the elevator repairman's dilemma, smiled and finally he told Grift where to go. 

It took several jerks and a quickening of the ticks and squeaks from the pacemaker before the lawn mower started up. The gardener waved once more and disappeared in two strokes of  blue smoke. 

He went up and down, up and down, up and down, happily doing his little bit for global warming. Nearly there now. Only the edging to finish before a beer. A beer he could share with that old neighbour girl who is his now wife of fifty years. 

Concrete and steel ran through Grift's veins, he did not belong in a Californian bungalow cul-de-sack. It was unnerving to think he may never get back to a truly good traffic jam or to sip coffee from a biodegradable cup. 

“WTF there it is!” A vision of multi storied magnificence. A grubby office building had climbed out of a pocket of commercial unrest. Grift was saved. There would be an elevator that needed him and possibly a vending machine to keep them both company while Grift worked. 

As Grift jerked the work truck to a stop his phone rang. “Yes Boss. Yes Boss. Yes Boss… Yes … B...”

Thanks to Courtney Barnett for the inspiration