Tuesday, March 15, 2005


You all know “fast”, right?

Associated with speed.


Haste, hurry, flurry, rush, run, sprint, dash, rush.


And then we have faas! Just plain faas. Just plain curious!

Here's a li'l game you can play while reading today's episode.

See how many times you can spot ‘faas’ the speedy action, and fass, curious.

The other day I heard an extra loud crash on the public road by the seawall...metal crunching and crushing, brakes screeching as if someone was trying to scrape the tar off the road with his [her] tyres on rapid.

It sounded extra bad.

[We hear these sounds often and can judge whether it’s bad, worse, extremely terrible.]

I needed to know!

I raced into our veranda.

People were streaming out by the dozens. I don't know where people were coming from. Before you could say ‘Jack Johnson dead’ people were popping out from under grass, bush, tree stump...

Before, there was zero human.

As soon as the crashing and the scraping were heard...

The men who were working next door downed tools.

Two of them took off on bicycles.

Those who didn't have bicycles grew wings!

Even the man who looked like the boss man came out...he forgot to down tools...he still had a paintbrush in his hand. But he moved with only a little trot instead of flying…being the boss man, he probably wanted to look and act a tad dignified.

On the main road by the seawall a very tall, very thin, very dark fella was running. He was wearing one o' those pants cut at the calves...his skinny dark legs looked like dark chopsticks flitting down the road.

I couldn't see the accident from our veranda. The houses in front of ours were blocking the main road.

What happened? What happened?

My mother who was watering her plants shouted up, “Call Neighbour.”

I phoned Neighbour. Her answering machine came on.

"Neighbour," I said, "when you're finished taking notes, report to me."

While waiting for Neighbour to phone I heard a woman shouting from the road with aggressive glee.

What’s that all about? I wondered.

Neighbour called. She’d been taking notes from her veranda.

"It looks like only one car was involved,” she reported. “It looks like it was going up the east coast, going really fast, and I don’t know how, but the car hit the median.”

[Yes, we have ‘em now…median…between two main roads, one going east, one going west].

The car turned turtle, landed on its roof, wheels in the air. A Good Samaritan took the driver to the hospital.

[Was the ambulance only working during the flood?]

"And before you could blink,” Neighbour said, “the onlookers were turning over the car.”

They turned it back on to its wheels and the car was now facing west, going to town…on the wrong road too!

A van came up, man driving, woman passenger. The driver stopped.

A woman, tough and aggressive, jumped out quickly. She looked at the side mirror that had broken off from the crashed car.

With the speed of lightening the woman picked up the mirror, and announced in a very loud voice to all, "I did always want one like this."

[Aaah…so that’s what the shouting was all about].

She laughed and jumped back into the van with the mirror she’d always wanted, and they sped off.

The police came...it seems like they’d taken forever to reach, but they did come rather quickly…it’s just that the people had moved quicker.

“But what’s the point of them coming?” Neighbour asked. “The evidence has been tampered with.”

"Yes,” I said. “These people can really move when they want to.”

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

is troo..ask neighbour an you get the story from dat side..ask ova de road an you get de low down for de odda side