Blogger Creative Challenge 242: Waiting

Solothurn station

Waiting for the train at the busy station, she noticed him. He was tall, dressed like a business man, but had an interesting appearance. The long belted coat emphasised his size even more and he was wearing horn rimmed glasses. There was a deja vue. It was the same gentleman that was at the station a month ago. She glanced around and saw his partner.

The partner was dressed in blue jeans and a cheap leather jacket. He looked a bit scruffy with his greasy hair and cheap leather boots with run down heels. This time she was prepared. The train entered the station and there was the usual scuffle of people at the stairs. A mixture of legs, arms, suitcases and handbags. It was the handbag that she focussed on and hoped so much that it would work.

Suddenly the tall business man was on the stair, pushing behind her to get into the train compartment. Scruffy was standing on the platform with one foot on the stair. Businessman glanced down to the platform and nodded and Scruffy nodded back and then it happened.

Businessman stretched out his hand with his long fingers and dipped them into her bag. He was flink and quick and he soon felt the leather of the purse.

Businessman screamed, a piercing painful scream. He withdrew his fingers from the handbag, not clutching a purse but having a mousetrap clamped over his fingers. It was then that he tumbled down the stairs onto the platform and lay on the platform clutching his ankle which had just received a piercing blow from her high pointed stiletto heels. Scruffy ran over to the business man.

“Where’s the purse” he asked.

“Forget it” she said and gave him a large dose of pepper spray in his face, which did not improve his appearance, as he now had fire red eyes to match his black greasy hair. Scruffy was now also laying on the platform, rubbing his eyes.

She was happy. Those self defence lessons had paid off. After being robbed of her purse and all her credit cards a month earlier by the same men, she had decided to be prepared the next time she took a train journey. He husband had been with her to see her off at the station the first time and saw the men quickly board the train and leave quickly again. The next he heard from his wife was when she called from the next station to say that her purse had been stolen.

After a report to the police, nothing was achieved, but now she was ready. That would not happen again. She knew they would be stupid enough to try it again. They might be clever with their fingers, but intelligence was not their special gift. People’s faces were not important for them, only their possessions.

Daily Prompt: Erasure

You have the choice to erase one incident from your past, as though it never happened. What would you erase and why?

Wisteria

Just look at this wonderful bush. We bought it when we moved into our new home and had our own little garden. The supports were already there and the idea was to plant something that would sort of creep along, make wonderful flowers and look good. I decided, we must have a Wisteria. My sister-in-law had one, although she lived in a house and it had captured the wall on one side and looked great. We have a ground floor appartment. Nevertheless we decided a wisteria would be something spectacular and would spread nicely along the trellis.

There were a few things that we did not bear in mind. Wisteria grows and grows and grows. If something is in the way it just strangles it, like choking and twining around metal bars that support the flower arrangement until they bend. They also like to conquer unobtainable places, making them obtainable, such as my neighbour’s balcony upstairs. Actually she was very happy with it and found it a wonderful flower to have growing through the metal construction of her balcony. Imagine her disappointment when I cut it down as I realised it would soon strangle her balcony and that would be somewhat expensive for us to replace.

Naturally when we bought it we got the best. Not a simple average Chinese version, but a Japanese Wisteria. They flower twice a year and twine in another direction. They are also quite indestructable. Not only to they take over all vacant spaces above but spread in the underground. We had wisteria plants growing all over the place. Twice a year, sometimes more, Mr. Swiss would attack the growth with the largest sharpest garden clippers that we had. Mr. Swiss usually won the battle, although as the years went by he found his strength was no longer sufficient. He also had problems climbing the ladder and back again. I had given up a long while ago, however being tall I could pull the branches down and chop away. By the way did you know that wisteria are deciduous, meaning they throw their thousands of leaves on the ground in Autumn. If it rains they tend to stick to the floor which makes the job of sweeping them together more difficult.

After about 10 years of battle we found enough was enough and the death sentence was passed on the Wisteria. We decided it was not a battle we wanted to carry out ourselves, who knows where the roots had reached to, so the gardener was called. He arrived with his truck and I must say in thirty minutes the wisteria was a pile of leaves and branches. We also demolished the wires which were constructed to achieve the perfect growth. The gardener did suggest we could plant another climbing plant, perhaps a climbing rose, or a clematis, but we answered in the negative, thinking perhaps sunflowers or Cosmos would do the job nicely.

We physically erased the wisteria from our past, a decision which we should never have made.

Here it is in all its climbing glory:

The wisteria in the front garden

And here are the remains – after we murdered it

The End of the Wisteria

Daily Prompt: Erasure