At 6.20 this evening I had a missed call on my mobile phone, and when I called back ten minutes later there was a voicemail message. It was from the GP surgery (doctor’s office to Americans) asking me to give them a call, which I did. I got another voicemail message which said, in effect: ‘The phones are now switched off and there’s nobody here. Go away.’
Now, the thing is, you see, I had a blood test there yesterday so it’s reasonable to assume that they have information to impart in respect of that procedure. But I don’t know what it is and I won’t be able to find out until tomorrow, so now I’m anxious. The past six years have been dominated by an ever increasing cocktail of health issues and now I’m wondering whether they’ve found another one. Is my liver about to stop functioning, for example? Or is my blood deficient in some way that is not conducive to my general welfare? You never know, do you, when you get non-committal calls from the GP surgery. And now I’m tempted to the suspicion that the little people are responsible for the lateness of the call so as to pay me back for forgetting to get their cake. Sounds like a reasonable speculation to me. And there’s something else:
I found a massive sycamore leaf outside Sainsbury’s yesterday. British sycamore leaves are usually between 2” and 5” wide, but this one was 10” wide. I’ve never seen one anything like as big as that, and now I’m wondering whether I was supposed to get the message: ‘This is the little people speaking. Such a leaf is obviously not of natural origin. We left it there for you to find in order that you should realise that there’s something rum going on and be reminded not to forget to get our cake.’ I forgot to get their cake. Whatever next?
(The little people can be a little vindictive at times, you know. Try reading my story The Passenger at the other site if you don’t believe me.)
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