Its a Beautiful Day

Dr. Rob walked silently around the house, the sound of snores and farts drifted like wraiths around the silent rooms.

As he tiptoed to his ‘special’ place’ he had a funny feeling. It was one he had had all his life, one which convinced him time after time that something was going to happen to him. ‘Something good’, he hoped, ‘but knowing my luck something horrible would probably happen’ he muttered to himself.

He thought back on his event filled life and the other times he had had this feeling. Like that time he had won tickets for a cruse to America, he’d had that feeling then, luckily he had been delayed and the Titanic had left without him for its appointment with an iceberg. Dr. Rob shuddered.

And then there was that time after he had done that TOPS course as an astronaut down at the local community centre, he’d gone to NASA as the British astronaut only to be told that the Challenger Space shuttle was all full up and actually spending two weeks on the big dipper on the end of South Sea pier did not qualify him to be an Astronaut, despite what ever the training agency had said. Plus the certificate had clearly been printed out on an old dot matrix printer and wasn’t worth the paper it was printed on.

‘Yes disaster dogged my very footsteps’ Dr Rob thought as he tripped over a carelessly placed door step.

‘Nevertheless’ he thought with conviction ‘a few more weeks in the house yet’. He shrugged off that impending feeling of doom and revelled in his position as most popular housemate. ‘Yes’ he thought with satisfaction, ‘they really love me in here’.

Why only yesterday Vit had spoken to him, praising him on his poetic ability. ‘Hmmm perhaps I should write her a little ditty’ he thought, shyly, going a bit red. And The Girl had thrown a tomato at him. She could only have known that he was just about to cook Ratatouille and was short a tomato if everybody was paying attention to him and watching in rapt attention his every move and listening to his every word.

Well of course they would listen, ‘after all’, he thought, ‘I am a Dr. of some repute, people hang onto my every syllable and consider every bon mot that escapes from my lips’.

Dr Rob, although being a modest and quiet chap, thought deep down in his ‘secret mind’ that in a few weeks after leaving the house as the victor ‘Never was in any doubt, old chap’ he could see himself saying to Prince Charles after a victory snifter at Chalies place, he would be offered very lucrative contracts with some of the better papers and magazines, probably be offered a chair at Harvard or Princton, ‘maybe both’, he thought, ‘why not’? – ‘A book even, it’d clearly be a best seller what with all the support I’m getting’.

Dr. Rob, settled into his ‘secret place’, plugged the various tubes and wires into the catheters and things he didn’t quite know what they were called, despite knowing everything else in the known universe and quite a bit about the unknown universe too.

Pushing a big red button in front of him, he relaxed as the various juices, detergents, delicious new blood, harvested from New Forest virgins – a rare and delectable thing, hydraulic fluid and some sort of purple gunk surged through his veins.

‘But’ he thought ‘this is very nice, but I’d give my right arm for a Guinness just about now, begorrah!’

All around him the house creaked and sighed as it, like Dr. Rob, faced a brand new day!