The wind was in a playful mood that day, as it mischievously lifted girl's skirts up, played catch with little boys' caps and old men's toupees. Chris just sat there watching kids run and laugh as they chased plastic candy wrappers, sometimes with the wind and sometimes against it, girls blushing while sticking their skirt down, old men muttering about as they held their toupees down. Chris was busy trying to get that annoying tune out of his head. The same tune which was playing in the pub when he slipped over somebody's puke in the loo. It didn't help that he had his pants down and was too engrossed in spray painting the broken mirror in the loo with his pee.
"I go to sleep with this tune stuck in me head and I wake up and that fucking tune's been playing in me head… it was playing even when I was taking a shit!" Chris yelled silently to Harvey, who was just getting out of bed and scratching his bottom while he looked bemusedly at Chris.
"What the fuck are you on about? You hit your head on something?"
"No! I am telling you… it was that tune I heard last night at the pub…"
"What's that song?"
"I have no fucking idea… but it goes like na…mmm…hgum…nanana…gnnn" Chris hummed while contorting his face and vocal chords in ways which could be best described as Picasso's early drafts of the human face.
"You sound like a bee shag fest" Harvey laughed mockingly as he stuck his finger up the nose taking check of the degree of stink.
"Oh shut the fuck up!"
As the tune escaped the confines of Chris's tortured head and fastened itself to its playmate, the mischievous wind. The wind started falling in love with the tune as it wisped through people's ears and sweaty armpits. The mischievous wind commenced on his mating ritual trying to entice the mysterious tune to open up, and the tune in turn wanted to have the wind's babies.
It seemed like the perfect love story, save for the fact that the young, wild and tempestuous wind grew old, tired, weary and gentle, the tune still remained young, fresh and upbeat. The tune was cheeky and vibrant and from time to time would prod the wind into allowing itself to whisper into unsuspecting people's ears. And then, the wind died, as suddenly as it had come gushing into people's lives.
"What the fuck is that song? And why won't this tune go away?" cried Chris to Harvey as they went back to the pub in the evening.
"You will be olrite Chris! Look, you can take off your windbreaker now, nothing which a pint or dozen can't solve" As Harvey pushed open the door to the pub and motioned to the bartender for two pints of lager.
Thought trigger for this story goes to Nutmeg and her story the "Scotch Mist"
Ps: While you are reading her story, YOU have to read Mark Dark's "Dentist Tomorrow"
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