Tuesday 19 November 2013

The Flotsam and The Jetsam - Linda Carol and Skip.




Linda, Carol and Skip grew up together in Bristol, a couple of years apart in years, a few yards apart in streets where they lived.

They all went to the same school, hung out together and built a reputation among the teachers for being bad-assed.

Linda and Carol went to ballet classes, Linda’s mum was a ballet teacher but not theirs, Skip fancied Linda and Linda’s dad didn’t think his daughter should hang out with him because Skip was bad assed.

Linda’s dad was a drummer in a band.

Linda’s dad played jazz.

Skip went off to art school, he was a year older and started playing guitar, then got into art and set up an office doing graphic work.

Carol became a dancer and went off to Europe and Linda crossed the Ocean and ended up in L.A.

Carol and Skip kept in touch.

And a lot of years went past.

And Skip started playing the drums.

He joined a band.

Drew weeks, drummed weekends.

Linda got into coke.

Linda’s dad died.

Time went past.

Carol found Linda on Facebook, Linda phoned, asked – ‘what happened to Skip?”

“He’s fine, plays the drums.”

Linda explained that her dad’s drums were in storage and would Skip go and check them out ‘cos she wanted to sell them.

Carol gave Linda Skip’s number.

Linda and Skip spoke.

Skip went to the storage to make a list and take some photos.

The storage was padlocked.

Skip had to break the padlock and buy a new one when he left.

It cost him thirteen pounds, a couple of a days, a day return on the train and a pack of fags.

Skip smokes.

Next to the drums was an un-opened set of the same sticks Ringo Starr used with The Beatles.

Linda’s dad didn’t need them.

Skip is bad-assed.


4 comments:

Anonymous said...

Short story brilliance ta da

popps said...

Hi Ta-Da, thanks for leaving a comment.
As you see i don't get many and it gets pretty lonely out here so it's stuff like this - fiction - that keeps my spirits up.
I hope you enjoyed it.

Anonymous said...

bit lonely here too -
feeling the cold
feeling the pinch
pinching a penny
penny, penny isnt any
I can't find my hot water bottle!I can find the cover and am wearing it as a hat - do not say I am getting like my mother because then my head will get cold

popps said...

You are getting like your mum!