Thursday, 4 March 2010

Fag Ash Lil and Bill

Firstly, apologies to all smokers; you're not all like this.

On the way to school, one of the mothers, who I've taken to calling Fag Ash Lil chain-smokes the entire way. When she gets to the school gate she throws the end on the pavement, still burning.

After she comes out from taking little Chavie, or whatever kid's name is, into class she and another (non-smoking but ignorant) mother stand at the gate - not over the road, or on the pavement to the side - nattering, where everyone has to squeeze past them. Many parents have little ones in prams and buggies that have to pass under their cloud of smoke and inanities.

This miserable-faced woman who moans non-stop is driving me to distraction. (I know I'm moaning but it's not a way of life!) When I walk down the road to pick my daughter up, Lil's hubby - Fag Ash Bill, joins in. I have to run past them so I don't breathe the poisons of their habit and their dialogue into my lungs.

How ignorant and selfish can you get? Poor Chavie.

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Lily Childs is a writer of horror, esoteric, mystery and chilling fiction.

If you see her dancing outside in a thunder storm - don't try to bring her in. She's safe.