Monday, March 9, 2009

Narrative

I am sitting on a roof. Can you believe this? I surely don’t! It is the first long-weekend of the semester and I am spending it on the roof of a very pretty girl’s house. It's just a shame that she isn’t home. My mother would have said: “This is what you get for running after members of the opposite sex the weekend before your final exams.” My dad, well, my dad would totally have totally got chasing after chicks!

You see her father is a professor at the university where I am now in my third year. He is also my Maths III lecturer and to put it mildly, he doesn’t like me. Not that I can blame him exactly. I wouldn’t like me either if I were him. The problem of course is that I really like his daughter, but who wouldn’t? She is a babe. So when she let it drop that her parents were off to a wedding for the weekend, I was in heaven. What she didn’t mention was the two Dobermans that have been slobbering up at me for the past four hours.

Where she is, I can't imagine. Reality is the thick bank of clouds above me. For the first hour I baked. Slowly. They just had to have a black roof, didn’t they? Now the wind has come up and the clouds seem more ominous by the minute.

I don’t know what prospect scares me the most, starving or her father finding me (probably dead) on his roof when he gets home on Monday. I have this nasty feeling that I might be failing Math this year. I thought he didn’t like me when I didn’t turn up for class for a week. Or when I did. Or when we dyed his french poodle pink, but this time he is simply going to hate me.

It can't get any worse. First small raindrops, then big ones and now I look like I went for a shower under the Victoria Falls. It’s getting a bit chilly up here, but it doesn’t seem to be bothering the Dobermans. Oh, and did I mention that in my haste to get on the roof I knocked over the ladder that had been leaning against the house? The same ladder that is now lying on top of his prize petunias.

I wonder if Honeybun, the once again white poodle, went with them for the weekend. (I also wonder how she gets on with the Dobermans?) That must be the most hated dog in history. The professor brings her to class every day and the stupid mutt is quite capable of barking an hour without end. I have heard it with my own ears. Twice.

Luckily, the rain has stopped, but the wind hasn’t and I am freezing. It is also getting dark, I am hungry and it is getting more difficult by the minute to remember why I found this girl so much prettier than the other five thousand on campus.

It’s half past twelve and I am still freezing, hungry and on the professor’s roof. Don’t dogs ever sleep? That knowledge might have been handier than my Math right now…

Headlights! They are coming up the driveway. She’s home! This must be the single happiest moment of my life. Someone is getting out. No, no….two people.

Oh. No.

“This is just typical of Sarah, I always knew she would leave him standing at the altar,” I hear a male voice say. “We should never have gone to the wedding.”

“Oh darling”, his wife replies, “don’t fuss.”

I was still deciding whether to call out for help and get killed or to freeze anyway when the decision was made for me. The professor switched on the yard lights and stared up incredulously at me where I sat illuminated against the darkness.

2002

No comments:

Post a Comment

 
Afrigator