Two for Joy...

Who knows? Maybe my doctor would look like Brad Pitt and fall hopelessly in love with my badly, bruised coccyx, I mused. Visiting time came around and in burst my children with my sister, shouting and screaming about a competition win or something, and arguing over who was going to hand me my letter which declared that I was a winner! See! Yer can't underestimate the power of those there Magpies!

I undid the envelope, trying to remember exactly which competion it was I'd entered. Ah! Yes, it was the "Name that Sound" from radio Humberside.

I'd correctly identified it as the sound of a butterfly emerging from it's cacoon! The only one to get it right out of 1500 people! An all time record no less! I was feeling almost blessed! I knew that the prize was an adventure holiday of some sort, and was thrilled, if, a little apprehensive due to my recent accident. It's diving Mum! the children screamed in sheer excitement. Wow! How long until I'd be fit to dive? I thought. It's not until November said my sister as she scanned the letter. Where is it? I queried.

Oh, it's off the north coast of Scotland she said, a week long training course and then deep sea diving from a North Sea Oil Rig!

Are you sure I enquired, it didn't sound much of a prize now, surely, they have to pay people hundreds of quids aweek to go down there, now here I am winning it as a prize! I felt a sense of loathing towards magpies momentarily. But later, when they'd all gone, I mused how amazing it would be to swim with shoals of cod, and maybe herring. I'd never seen them in their natural habitat, devoid of chips and batter.

Between then and November, I moved between moods of elation at prospect of viewing migratory shoals of mackerel, and dejection when I realised that they weren't deep sea water fish and that I'd miss that spectacular display, and then on to out right terror at the idea of coming face to face with a giant squid, or shark! The winning letter had lessened my fears somewhat by reassuring me that I would be given a hand held harpoon for such times, but warning that that itself could be dangerous, and told of an amateur whose harpoon had accidentally gone off and attached itself to a passing Whale, which, stunned, swam away and the man was never seen again!

The End

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