The Human Fly
Yesterday we had an amusing incident which I thought that I would share with you. We wanted to go for a walk and I came downstairs , waiting for Gerald. Normally when we go out, I always ask him if he has his keys, this time I didn't and for the first time ever he slammed the door shut and then had the awful realisation that his pockets were empty. An awful ,sinking feeling. So there we were, locked out on a Bank Holiday. Fortunately, we always leave the back windows open and the second bit of fortune was that the man who lives downstairs was actually there, so we rang on the bell and he came out to see what was going on. We explained what had happened and that we needed a ladder so we could climb back in through the window. The only thing that he had was a step ladder, but we said we'd try as it was our only choice. I won't mention the state of his flat as we walked through, he did ask us to pardon the mess, anyway when we got outside the ladder wasn't quite tall enough. So Gerald had to climb up on the shed and precariously balance another foot ladder on top of the shed's roof so that he could clamber up. I was a bit scared at this stage, especially as I had to watch him manoeuvre himself along the edge of the roof with very little to hold on to, except a narrow windowsill. If it had been me I would have lost my nerve when I got up there and become stuck. Like the human fly, Gerald stuck to the wall and with a final spurt of bravery, made it to the bathroom window, safe and sound. At this point our neighbour started to clap, saying he could never have done such a thing himself. I didn't even wince when I heard everything crashing off the bathroom windowsill, I was so relieved that my love had made it! Where were the keys, you might be wandering? In the pocket of his other jeans! I'm still flabbergasted by the whole affair, because even when you look out the window, it seems so high up. All's well that ends well.