{"id":1627,"date":"2023-05-30T12:15:40","date_gmt":"2023-05-30T12:15:40","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/?p=1627"},"modified":"2023-05-30T12:16:51","modified_gmt":"2023-05-30T12:16:51","slug":"prison-bloody-prison","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/prison-bloody-prison\/1627\/","title":{"rendered":"Prison. Bloody Prison."},"content":{"rendered":"\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

On the 23rd<\/sup> of March 2020, the Prime Minister announced the UK\u2019s first national lockdown.<\/u><\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI tell you, Polly,\u201d Alan glared at the slate plaque above his cooker inscribed with \u2018Home Sweet Home\u2019 in decorative text. \u201cIt\u2019s more like Prison Bloody Prison.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Polly the parrot remained mute.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Picking up his cup, he stood, tripped, and fell violently against his large ceramic sink. His hand struck the edge, shattering three carpal bones and dislocating his ulna. Bouncing off, he crumpled heavily, fracturing his fibula as he fell, and dislocating his other leg\u2019s knee. He passed out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n

When he came round, he found himself face down on the chic bare boards, pain searing through him like maddened hell-ants gnawing at his vitals. He gasped and retched. Forcing himself to remain still, he lay for at least five minutes, just breathing. He thought to himself, \u201cAt least my ribs aren\u2019t broken.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Testing his legs, he gasped incoherently. The pain was excruciating. Polly squawked back.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBit of a pickle, Alan, old son,\u201d he said to himself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Nothing, he thought, to be gained from panicking. He had to steel himself and get to the phone in the hallway.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

So much for his disdain for modern technology, he thought. A mobile phone would have come in handy right then. Getting to the hall seemed impossible. He let his face press against the boards. Maybe he could shout and someone passing by might hear him. Realisation came as a shock. There would be no passers-by. Everyone was in lockdown. His neighbours had no chance of hearing him, not through the trees and tall fence surrounding his detached retirement home.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBugger,\u201d he cursed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBugger,\u201d repeated Polly. He scowled up at the bird sitting in its cage in the opposite corner of the kitchen.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNow you decide to speak,\u201d he said. He instantly regretted not persisting with trying to elicit words from her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cRegrets, I have a few,\u201d he sang painfully. He had very few regrets. One of them was a big one, though. He felt an unfamiliar pain well up inside.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cShould have gone with her to Manchester,\u201d he thought, but his business was just taking off. Now, he was going to die here on the kitchen floor without telling her. The thought cut through him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Polly repeated his song, and it gave him an idea.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They found him two days later. The pharmacy delivery van driver requested police help when Alan failed to respond to his knocking. They broke in and there he was on the floor. Internal bleeding, they said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

 The young constable who found him told the local reporter, \u201cHe suffered multiple fractures after falling in his kitchen. No relatives, just one pet, a parrot. Curious thing though, it kept saying one thing over and over.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat was that?\u201d The reporter asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The constable pursed his lips and said, \u201cBugger. Regrets, I have a few. I love you Susan, I always have. I\u2019m so sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cLast words of a dying man?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWho knows?\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Picking up his cup, he stood, tripped, and fell violently against his large ceramic sink. His hand struck the edge, shattering three carpal bones and dislocating his ulna. Bouncing off, he crumpled heavily, fracturing his fibula as he fell, and dislocating his other leg\u2019s knee. He passed out.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"rop_custom_images_group":[],"rop_custom_messages_group":[],"rop_publish_now":"initial","rop_publish_now_accounts":{"facebook_10158782359051062_103813597863211":"","twitter_1225722811282530305_1225722811282530305":""},"rop_publish_now_history":[],"rop_publish_now_status":"pending","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[695,782],"tags":[784,783,786],"class_list":["post-1627","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-695","category-june-2023-home-sweet-home","tag-home-sweet-home","tag-prison-bloody-prison","tag-regrets"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/pbrNJE-qf","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"post_mailing_queue_ids":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1627","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1627"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1627\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1630,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1627\/revisions\/1630"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1627"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1627"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1627"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}