Wednesday, November 11, 2009


A knock at the door at 6pm. I can see through the glass in the front door that it's a bloke with a box full of flashing lights. I wouldn't normally open the door but there we are and there he is and he makes a good case for me buying one of the flashing lights - little toys with neons attached when I look closer - which would, effectively, result in a donation to Action For Children. He closes the deal, sort of, and I hand over a couple of quid, but tell him I don't want the flashing light, which would only end up in the bin. This confuses him. "Doesn't your little boy want one?" I tell him no. Just want him to take the money. He does and heads off down the street. As I shut the door I can hear a voice from the other side of our porch. It's our elderly neighbour, Mary, the woman that calls Finn 'Flynn' despite me pointing out her mistake all the time. "Have they gone? What did they want?" I am, in essence, having a conversation with a very thin wall but I open my door to talk to her. She is not there, she is standing in her porch. I shout, "it was a bloke from Action For Children. Selling flashing lights. He's gone now." Only he hasn't. On hearing me shouting he's come back and he's there, right there, stood outside Mary's front door. He knocks on her door. "I'm not opening the door. Not when it's dark. You could be anyone. Leave me alone. I and not opening the door," she says. He begrudgingly walks off. I check that Mary's ok. "It was just a man selling flashing lights," I remind her, hoping to put her mind at rest. We talk through the wall for a while and Flynn diffuses the situation by making comedy noises that are audible to Mary. "Night night," he laughs. "Night night".

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