Conversation in the loo.
Here’s the men’s toilet.
Oh. I’m not a man.
You will be one day.
Daddy, I can’t wait, I must go now!
It’s OK, I’m man so we can go in.
The door opens.
Look! What’s these?
Urinals and there’s a small one for you.
It’s too high, I need steps.
OH, OK, let’s go into the cubical.
Ooh, that boring, like the one at home.
So you know how to use it.
Lift me up.
No, you’re tall enough.
I’m not a man yet.
Come on, get on with it.
Let me watch you first.
The sound of liquid gushing into water.
Are you done?
Here I go! Look, it’s all coming out!
The tinkle of liquid falling.
Now you can flush, press that.
OK, out to wash our hands. Now we can dry them.
Ooh! That’s so noisy!
Come on, let’s get out of here.
Are we going home Daddy?
No, we’ve only just arrived, we’re going for a long walk.
We were walking through the park, heading for a popular centre where there was an art exhibition and a cafe. Ahead of us others, behind, more. Spread out in that English manner, so as not to intrude on others.
A couple overtake us, because it's not a good day for me. As she passes, the woman nags, "Hurry up!"
He tried, but lagged behind. We smiled at him, but he was in his own world. She growled, "Come on, you're always trying it on!"
Silently, he kept walking, but his step was slowing. She snapped, "Get a move on! And walked far ahead. He stumbled, swerved across the track. My wife stepped forwards to help, but he managed to right himself and take some steps.
His wife was now far head and didn't look back. He slowed, his body seemed to melt and he slumped to the ground. We ran forwards. My wife was at his side, recognising the danger in an instant.
Amazingly, a doctor was passing at that very moment and joined her. My wife asked a young man walking past to run to the cafe and call an ambulance.Together they helped the man onto his back and began resuscitating him. It was exhausting work. They kept on, pumping his chest in turns.
The wife turned round, calling in anger, but seeing the situation, she stopped half way through a word. She stood, looking in disbelief for a while. As if in a dream, she stumbled downhill. Stopping some paces from the strange scene, she gasped, and gasped.
Soon, my wife and the doctor gave up. Twenty minutes had passed and they had not revived their patient. The woman still stood at a distance, her eyes fixed on her dead husband's body. She ignored, or was unable to hear my wife's soothing words. We walked on in silence as the doctor waited to sign the forms.