Yuletide memories

I wanted to say hello so I crossed over, to the other side of the street, where she had been stood for about five or ten minutes, sucking on the end of her portable electronic battery-operated telephone.

"Hello," I said, "I think we've met somewhere before".

Her attention seemed to be focussed on other matters however, so I cleared my throat loudly for a few minutes, so as to get her attention.

What a sight we must have looked, there outside Debenhams, she sucking on the end of a bit of pink plastic and me indulging in non-government funded phlegm experiments.

After a few minutes of this, a twat vendor and her pimp strolled by, greeting me with a fond exclamation of welcome, and this helped redirect my energies into more rewarding channels.

I unlaced my shoes and tied both ends together, forming the requisite length of string. I nibbled at the plastic on one end, eventually wearing it away and allowing the lace to burst out in a wild parody of a firework explosion. Seeing the lace burst out of its polymer shell was a bit like watching a hard-on grope for air out of some recently lowered y-fronts.

I then jammed the other end of the lace, with the plastic still intact, deep into my ear, where it stuck in some wax. I sucked at the unprotected end until the lace, which tasted a bit like a horse's backside, had become a fine point.
Crouching, I slowly crept closer to the woman, trying to avoid eye contact at all costs. This was by far the easiest bit, as the woman - her head tilted back so as to allow the phone more room down her oesophagus - betrayed not one hint of any awareness of her surroundings.

Inches away from her tiny throbbing feet, which were crammed decoratively into some pointy pink shoes, I started to rise slowly again until I was standing once more, so close I could smell the talcum powder. Then, grabbing her bottom lip so it became a triangle, I dragged her face away from the sky and toward my own, gently and with precision sliding the wet end of the lace up her own small, button-shaped nose.

This was, I think, 1987, and the last I saw of mother.