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Rated: · Other · Other · #1943491
An extract from the diary of a stores clerk .
Owing to the fact that it had started drizzling again , I had no choice
but to take
shelter at the farm-house . I rummaged my pockets for the keys and ,
with these in hand , I made straight for the house . Many of us who
have at one time or other spent a night at the said house can testify
here that it's not much fun .
The structure is a renovated hovel that had been a pig-sty long ago ,
during the colonial times . Plastered from floor to ceiling , it had no
ventilation apart from the tin-door and the round spy-hole of a window
that some occupant or other had chipped-out in the cemented wall . The
air inside was musty and chocking . Apparently , the sagging tin-roof
leaked and every-time it rained , huge chunks of plaster fell off the
wall , exposing the rotting building-posts within . The last time I
slept there was quite trying . The previous occupant had used diesel in
the paraffin-stove instead of kerosene . Diesel-smoke hung in the room
and on every item . The sheets and blanket were sooty and covered from
head
to toe with rat-droppings . The rickety-door squeaked and squealed all
night long giving the structure a spooky eerie air of a haunted
board-room . Mosquitoes swarmed and whined at every inch , not to
mention cockroaches and bedbugs that crawled the dishes and bedding .
It's a miracle that I did not get infected with vermin-related diseases
that first night . But tonight I'd be lucky if I escape with only a cold
. I inserted the key in the lock , turned the door-knob and pushed .
Nothing . I tried the feat again , this time a bit more firmly , using
my
shoulder for leverage . The door would not budge . Funny . Under
ordinary conditions this door is always tottering on its hinges , how
comes it's adamant in this foul weather ? I wondered . One more heave
and........it gave way suddenly and I crushed nose-first into the
opposite wall . It was such a stunning crush that it left my nose
smarting brokenly and eyes stinging with tears . I slowly steadied
myself and sat down on the bed in the far corner . I struck a match and
lit the tin-lamp which sat on a stool
in the middle of the room . I blew blood-speckled mucus into my
handkerchief and knew I was in for a rough night .
I got up from the bed with a heavy nose and a light head and inspected
the room . Under the bed , I found the remnants of a rat , obviously
left-overs from the table of a cogitated wild-cat , an over-grown rat ,
the next-of-kin to sister Ratus-ratus , scurried out of a greasy-pan and
scampered up the rough-wall in a conceited effort to hide from this
two-legged intruder . I grabbed a wooden-ladle from the wash-stand ,
whacked out at the rodent , missed her altogether and sent flecks of
dusty-white-wash flying up the ceiling . My second aim was more accurate
, cutting the mouse between the eyes . She pattered onto the floor .
Her beady-eyes popped-out of her
skull , her tail danced as if in ecstasy , her toes quivered while her
whiskers twitched evilly . She was quite dead when I turned her over
with my boot .
What to eat was another problem . Hunger gnawed at the pit of my stomach
like a furnace . I stifled a yawn as I thought of the mouth-watering
meal I had left at home not long ago . How I wished I could have a
morsel right now ! But as things were , I was going to sleep on an empty
stomach . The mere thought of having to brace the chill of the night
and the vermin on a grumbling belly was terrifying . Anyway a man can
always try . Such were some of the challenges associated with my work .
And the bed ! It rivaled a murram-road in hardness . I discarded the
dripping rain-coat and hat then stretched out on the welcoming bed .
Sleep was already dragging at my eye-lids but I made no move to get
under the bed-sheets for fear of getting dust and rat-graffiti in my
nostrils . I blew out the lamp and closed my eyes . I was drifting off
into an uneasy slumber when I heard ,or thought I heard a long hissing
sound . I pricked my ears but the sound did not continue . Thinking that
it was maybe a figment of my imagination , I closed my eyes again and
immediately feel asleep .
This time the scratches were loud and varied . They even cut right
across my anatomy . I tried to sit up but my limbs could not move . I
stretched out my palm to ease the searing pain that burnt at my thumb .
One particularly determined rodent would not let go . My nostrils were
clogged-up , making my breathing labored .
As suddenly as the noise had started , it subsided . The house became
extraordinarily silent . Then the hiss again . With one final heave I
sat up . Nothing moved , no scratches . My thumb throbbed . I lit the
tin-lamp and froze . The black-mamba was staring at me from the middle
of the room , its neck engorged by the bulge of the Ratus-ratus . Blood
dripped from my thumb !
" I have to get out of this hell fast ! " I said out loud . Just then , the phone rang . It was Judith .
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