Fish and Chips (Ch7)

What was that noise? It was a roaring sound like a motorboat and it filled my head…I tried to open my eyes. Everything was blurred*. My head hurt. Where was I? What happened? And what was that smell? It was something familiar, something unpleasant. I wrinkled my nose and tried to shake the pain from my head. The room spun around. I stopped moving my head. I wanted to hold it in my hands, but I couldn’t. My hands were tied behind my back! Slowly, I remembered: the Christmas party, my car, the shop, the man behind the counter…

A cold, metal drainpipe dug into my spine*. I was tightly tied to it. The smell? He sat beside me, also tied to the drainpipe. I could feel him and smell him. His breathing was heavy and ragged*. I twisted my neck and leaned forwards as far as I could so that I could see his face. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I knew this man. His name was George. He often came into town and was a regular at the soup kitchen* on Hayek Street.

‘George?’ I whispered, ‘are you okay?’

There was silence for a while and then, `Yes.’

`What’s happening? What’s going on?’

`Talk quietly,’ warned George. `He’s in the next room.’



blurred* – not sharp

spine* – backbone

ragged* – not regular

soup kitchen* – a place that offers free food

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: