Under a torrential Glasgow night
Traffic bustles past in its usual din
Until it’s brought to halt by a dunt
Accompanied by the soggy screeching of tyres,
Interrupting me from my musical distraction.
Outside of my window a crowd has gathered
In the rain
To tune in to an accident at the crossing
Where one man has clearly defied the lights
one too many times.
The purple hatchback shaped cell,
(The antagonist in this piece),
Releases it’s henchmen into the stormy Glasgow night.
These unwitting thieves of another man’s evening
Stand around our protagonist.
One of them dances down the street, a phone attached to his ear,
As the others, slightly shaken and waving hands,
address the gathered viewers over the roar of the downpour,
Acting their part as lightening arrives to illuminate the set.
Twenty minutes pass.
Like the sound of a revolving alarm
An ambulance shudders past.
Watching the paramedics disembark, the extras move in closer,
All encased in thunder as the downpour shifts on its axis
And becomes horizontal.
The fallen hasn’t moved an inch since he was robbed,
But I can’t quite tell if his stolen consciousness is integral to his role.
The paramedic performs his duty in an almost robotic fashion
(I’m sure he performs this part everyday)
As the police arrive to interview people and get autographs.
After five minutes, the man is taken from the scene
Into the green (and white) room, his clothes dripping,
Writhing, wakefulness wavering,
The extras disperse and the officers return to their seats,
Watching the henchmen return to their prison
(Perhaps to a cell they will now carry with them forever)
Two sirens kick off in harmony and each exit to the right,
Then the world continues turning, like nothing has happened tonight.