大象传媒

My cousin often tells the tale of the aftermath of a trip to pick bluebells. He was just getting over some illness; it was thought the walk would do him good.
Bluebells collected , and placed in a vase on the front room tiled fireplace.
At bedtime he said he didn't want to go back in his own room which was small and cramped, so went to sleep with his brother. His mother was downstairs in the front room as his sister had been ill too and wasn't sleeping well; this was to give his father a good night as he had work in the morning.
In the middle of the night there was a loud whistling sound. Mother threw herself over her daughter on the couch, then there was an enormous explosion,a great crash and shudder. The windows shattered blowing glass into the couch,all the tiles in the fireplace cracked except the one on which the bluebells stood. That was intact and the bluebells undmaged. My cousin failed to hear any of this (giving rise to the idea that he would sleep through the Last Trump)but woke in the morning to find a bomb had fallen at the front of the house no more than 200 yards away, a piece of sewer pipe had been thrown straight through the roof through the room and bed he had rejected the night before, through to the foundations. The public shelter which was opposite the house had had the roof removed in one piece turned on its side and replaced itself inside the shelter which ,with good fortune, was empty.
I remember there was a green tarpaulin over the house roof for months.

漏 Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.