Slippery Susan

I must have been walking through this alleyway for close to a millennium. I would have been running through it if it wasn't for my new travelling companion.

He is a bit of a brute, but he and I have only grown closer since my parents caught the disease and sadly passed onto greener grass. Oh yea, his name! Let's call him Mr Swell, that is just as good as any other name, I guess! Mr Swell is a bit of a tomato in all honesty, he has big red cheeks that seem that they could burst at any point! This makes him especially frightened of sharp edges. I mean, who likes sharp edges anyway?

As we finally arrive at the end of the alleyway, we are met with a sea of people. We have made it to the town market! It is very quiet and miserable here, the only noise is that of people coughing and with each cough the crowd seems to spread. Sometimes after a cough, there is even a soft thud as another body drops to the floor. Luckily mum and dad were at home when this happened to them.

As I walk through the crowd I keep my head down and my hair over my face, being careful not to draw any attention to myself. Mr Swell doesn't have any hair so I think he is going with the "if-I-can't-see-you-you-can't-see-me" approach but we will see how well that works out for him! Anyway, this'll just be an in & out job, so I shouldn't worry too much!

That was when I heard my call to arms: "Bracelets, brushes & headscarves!". I turn to the voice, but unfortunately, I cannot see the face it came from as I am too small but that is ok I can follow the sound. I run towards the noise, pushing through rough fabrics that scratch at my skin until I see my prize laid neatly on a wooden table.

It is almost impossible to see as it is made of the same wood as the table it is laid on top of but the bristles were enough to give it away. This was the hairbrush I was looking for! Relieved, I reach out to grab it.

"Oi! What do you think you are doin' little lady!"

Without wanting to acknowledge the source of the exclamation, I grab the brush and run as fast as I can, hoping that Mr Swell can keep up! But before I can get very far I feel a tense grip on my ankle and I fall to the floor. No way the shopkeeper can catch up to me that quick, it must be Mr Swell!

"What are you doin' Mr Swell?!", I scream, "Mr Swell! What are you doin'?!".

Tears are falling from my eyes as I lift myself from the floor and turn myself to sit on the cold floor. There is no Mr Swell, just a round growth on the side of my foot.