Feeling Lucky

Something went thud in the garden tonight. Fair enough, it was 3am and the mind can play tricks on you during hours like that. But it did. And I was looking the other way when it happened, which is worse. Yeah I know there aren't monsters in the backgarden, but something fucking moved. And it was just me and a lit cigarette between it and the booze in the kitchen. At that time I wasn't sure if I was ready for that kind of responsibility.

What was I doing out there in the first place? Well, I was digging up keys. I'd forgotten mine, and thanks to a well prepared housemate who thinks of these things, there was a spare set burried in the back garden. I found them, and smoked a fag in salute of this piece of good luck. The invisible fuck-off huge monster was just keeping my mind on the job.

So yes, home safe. Screw the nightbus, it was taxi all the way tonight. It's the worst part of the day, leaving Tooting. Really, if you have to leave your girlfriend in the middle of the night it should be aboard a horse or something - something with a bit of class to it. Or a tank! Long story, but a tank would work. Instead, Abba cars and a driver asking how my saturday night was whilst I was busy counting the change in my pocket to make sure I had enough to keep him talking all the way home. Lucky again.

I'm very lucky these days. So was the snail in the garden tonight who narrowly missed having a cigarette put out on his back. We're both lucky then. It's a nice feeling. It makes you feel you could get through anything. Even monsters in the back garden.