White Wednesday!

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
A story of life on a council estate.

Submitted: May 22, 2011

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Submitted: May 22, 2011

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WHITE WEDNESDAY

It was a day that I dread, a Wednesday morning on the Moorlands estate South London. We call it white Wednesday. It’s the day the local council collect all the old white goods people throw out - you know old cookers and washing machines etc. They make the place look an eyesore, not that it could look more run-down then it already does. It’s not just that it’s all the noise that comes with it being shifted. Banging and the scraping of metal is not nice at any time and definitely not at 6 am. The weather is horrible, but it is mid-November and I can only hope it gets better by the hour. I have lived on the estate for twenty years or so and, being a widowed man of 67, I don’t get out and about much. Just as well really because in the last 10 years the area has gone downhill and it’s a worry to go out at any hour.

Going back to when I moved in, 23 years ago to be exact, this estate was the talk of the town. If you moved here you were thought to be posh. People had never had a garden, especially one you could run around in. It was lovely here and had an atmosphere of its own. It was bright and full of vibrant people. Always there was an array of different colours to be seen in the people’s clothes, down to even the colour of people’s curtains. You see the estate was multicultural, but this never made any odds to anyone, as we never separated the fact that we were all humans and the better we all got on, the better our lives would be. All the kids were so polite to not only each other but to their elders as well. How times have changed!

Anyway, dreaming won’t change the fact it’s White Wednesday and take my mind off what I can see happening at the end of my turning. Of course, I always peer from behind the nets upstairs so as not to be seen by the local gang. I guarantee this happens every week and you guessed it – it’s always on a White Wednesday. Well I’ll tell you and put you out of your misery,

The gang of lads have terrorised the estate for some time now and it gets worse by the day. The girls that hang with them are so foul mouthed. I’m so glad my wife isn’t here to hear it as swearing was something she could not tolerate, especially from a woman. Well, in her eyes she wasn’t a woman if she carried herself in that manner.

Okay, so these lads think they have total control of the estate and what comes onto it and what goes off of it. Mad really, when you think about it cos none of them work, but spend their time supervising the estate - might as well do it as a job and get paid for it, but I guess you can’t drink alcohol and smoke that wacky backy at work. For a while now the lads have been beating the local council to the collection of the white goods and selling it for scrap at the local tip to fund their drink and drug fuelled antics on the estate of an evening. Well, today they have come unstuck.

A lorry turned up about 15 minutes ago and some heavily built chaps all jumped out. They didn’t mess about. They have been loading the lorry up with the goods non stop and there’s nothing left for the lads. There’s been loads of shouting and screaming. The gang of lads are claiming its theirs; the heavy set chaps, whom I now can hear have strong Irish accents, are saying it’s finders keepers. To top it all off the council workers have turned up, but don’t seem to bothered who has it, as long as it gets shifted. Now, as I’m speaking, two police cars have turned up and half the estate is outdoors watching. It’s horrible to say but the more the merrier come to think about it. I honestly think I’ve convinced myself that Wednesdays aren’t as bad as I first said they were. It’s quite exciting watching it all go on and, I’ll tell you one thing For sure, it saves me a few bob not using the lecky and watching the box all morning - free entertainment, so I’ve decided from now on it’s gonna be called wicked Wednesday.

written by Del Ranns. 2010


© Copyright 2020 Del_65. All rights reserved.

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