Sawn-Off Tales

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Sawn-Off Tales Page 4

by David Gaffney

Life Just Bounces

  THE SALESMAN’S SKIN glistened with sweat. ‘Where’s the big money?’ he cried.

  ‘Bouncy castles!’ we replied.

  ‘Correctamundo!’ His legs quivered like a manic preacher’s. ‘And I know that those of you who respect yourselves as people will sign up today.’

  The words of the presentation echoed in my head as I stared at the rusted generator and sagging vinyl edifice that covered the lawn. All my redundancy, everything, sunk into this. Rowena would kill me. I had no van to transport it and no money for advertising.

  I switched on the power, the generator throbbed and clunked, and slowly the gaudy plastic puddle rose up to become a quivering enchanted fairy palace. I thought about the others back at work, the ones who had been kept on. Then I flicked off my shoes and jumped in. I bounced. It was good, bouncing away. The salesman was right. Everybody wants to bounce.

 

 

 


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