Iron looked back up the road, eyes narrowed. Copper followed Irons
gaze. She saw movement on top of a building in the distance. A spot
of black with two shining eyes.
“Do you see its eyes?” asked Copper.
Iron cocked her head to one side and gave her a nod.
“I do like an eye pun,” remarked Copper. “The cornea the better.”
Metallic fish were strewn across the street outside the chip shop. Iron nudged the handlebars of a motorcycle with her nose. ‘Triumph’ embossed on the petrol tank. The rest of the bike had sunk into the dirt road.
“On Fridays, two shoals of robot fish riding motorcycles or mopeds would come here and have a dust-up,” sighed Copper.
Iron dug around the tank. As she loosened the soil what was let of the bike sunk below ground level. Copper pulled Iron away from the sinking vehicle.
“It was very seventies,” she continued. “Codrophenia.”
They passed a
building that had no roof. Iron recalled a story from this corner of
town. Eight women built a rocket in their attics over the course of
six years. They wrote a book about their exploits, sales of which
went through the roof.
The ladies managed
to get their rocket launched. Unfortunately, they never returned. It
was presumed, they were loft in space.
Man, I still feel awkward with the ‘through the roof’ punchline. It doesn’t matter how far detached you get from the original joke, it’s always there at the back of ya mind.
Copper put her hand on Irons’ shoulder. “Hold up.” The body of a robot lay on the floor outside a furniture shop. In the window hung a wanted poster with a picture resembling the rusted machine beneath.
Wanted: Dead or Alive.
£5,000
For the crimes of murdering eighteen furniture sets with paint removal fluid.
Iron marvelled at
the multicoloured liquids bottles inside the window. Every colour she
could imagine. Deep reds; Berry purples; Sunset yellow; Burnt orange;
Apple green. She was in awe. Cocktails from around the world
preserved inside.
“I think I knew
the barmaid, a hulking great spider robot,” pondered Copper.
Iron raised up on
her hind legs, front claws against the window to get a better look of
the inside.
“She quit bar
work,” continued Copper, “and become a web developer.”
Sorry for the squiffy posting times this last week. In-laws went down with lung and heart troubles. Been in and out of the hospital and looking after the fam at their home. The missus has moved back in with her mum for a bit while I double down on work to pay the bills while she’s a full-time carer.
If you fancy helping her out while she’s giving up work to look after the family, check out her Society6 store: society6.com/donnamariestrachan
‘HELP’ was spelt out across the floor in giant letters pulled off a cinemas signage. “I thought if anyone flew overhead…” sighed Copper.
Iron cleaned the dust off the letters. Copper gave her a thankful nod.
Above the entrance was a list of films and times. At the bottom of the sign was a sombre message. ‘The owner of the Hulley Cineplex has passed away. His funeral service will be held at 2:10, 4:20, 8:30.’
Iron smirked. “You like puns too, aye?” asked Copper.
In 2003, I went to the third Lord of the Rings preview. We were a couple of minutes late, but front row seats. The projector malfunctioned during the adverts. The manager came in and said the screening was cancelled. I heard a grown man/passionate orc scream “I’ve waited 10 years for this!”
As I laughed out loud, my mate grabbed my arm and dragged me out of the cinema. I realised on the way out, the whole cinema was filled with people dressed as orcs, elves, dwarves, goblins and whatever else is in Lord of the Rings. We were the only people dressed in jeans and shirts.
I don’t know if the cinema owner survived. We got a refund from the box office and were out of the cinema before anyone else emerged from the screen. Do orcs eat humans? RIP cinema manager guy.
I think that was the last time I went to the cinema… Yikes…
Little Fears 