U.T.N.W.O.G. (Upon The Night Wanderers Of Greenhill)

BRANCH TENET (50) :
U.T.N.W.O.G. (Upon The Night Wanderers Of Greenhill)

Job_s_comforter_wheeled_back_slowly

 

This was the newest Moon  since the Hotel’s Rule Book had been revised. As night’s heavy blue joist re-hung it’s yesterday’s weight
upon the Night Wanderers of Greenhill, the Hotel Manager
(who was a small monocycling golden tea pot) pulled forward
his new nightly job which was to wheel guest’s progress backwards towards their previous happy day at ‘Job’s Famous Footballers Hotel on the Mount’.

With this new formula for perpetual success, all that Management needed to do was to ensure a good welcome and a fine first day for every guest.

But so often new rules bring problems to long staying guests from the old regime.

These new rules had of course come from a new management. Their theory was sound enough and their rules were very good for those guests that feared tomorrow and preferred to live out their days through permanent yester moments.

“Time to strike back and get into a stronger defence position” shouted the tea pot manager as they rubbed along. “Keep dribbling you three and get back round down behind the leader, as I can see Yesterday looks better in the first half!”

The tea pot manager promoted the cosy days through this new rule change, though many guests still fixed their emotions on the tomorrows they felt they might be now losing ahead of them.

Sadly, there had been many hotel managers and many rule changes over the years. For one or two guests, this was normal and part of Tradition. The one remaining original guest was once the proud centre forward for the defunct ‘Greenhill Wanderers’. Though this was many moons ago he always carried a torch to the hope of rekindling the team but his stripes were never updated and his footwork became impeccably ball-proof. His era had been in the glory days of sport rather than in big business, so being ‘out of step’ with today was easy for him to hang onto.

“Are we all behind today or is it just me?” said the young hotel’s Yellow Page, counting as she went all the lost home goal balls still circling Greenhills’ record books.

“The leaders are far out infront of us all”  remarked Thelma Patch, a womanless woman that whilst still chained to the railings in many ways, kept close ties with her new way rulers.

“Leaders!” she exclaimed. “Their rules will only have changed once ‘The Man of the Lamp’ is trailing at the new bottom of the Human League”. Thelma would tell you that she was a forward thinker, but, each night, as a member of Greenhill Wanderers Supporters Club, she would willingly be retracked to dwell in her yesterdays too.

The Yellow Page was tied between false gloss covers with nothing but a rear lamp and a memory. Her recent issue was no disadvantage in the ‘now’ of things, and her content was all that anyone could wish, but dragged or wheeled into an out of date era, she would be of little use to anyone.

.   .   .

There, in the cool light of tonight’s’ moon we freeze our characters for you to study.

Some move back with love, some through intent, others amidst fear.

But she that glows centrally and maintains in updated form all manner of enterprise and innovative zeal shall hold the balance of tomorrow twixt her leaves. Her blossoms will be the culture of mix. Her roots the links to many cross-nutrients. Within her mind she will carry Empire. Within her Soul, she will know the true value of Green Hills. Through her actions, she will page your next moments, given a chance.

Grant.

From our original geocities site now archived at http://www.oocities.org/hobb_it/entrer/home/2/night_wanderers/night_wanderers.html

PPS SPP

BRANCH TENET (53) :
P.P.S.  v.  S.P.P.
(Peacocks Paradise Shrill v. Some Pretty Pics)

Announcing the uncovering of another ‘Bird from GOD’
Were two ex-showroom car sales giants emitting sounds like smog.
A cornucopia of praise preceded what they found
As one sawed off the covers fast to get them to the ground.

No show on Earth was quite that big – No bird made quite that sound
But as the saw progressed at pace they glared at what they found

A bloody splash!
A splatter drip!
The makers will get flack
This Model’s got a bloody fault
We’ll send the bugger back!

And so the Peacock left half wrapped was sadly left to drain
As sales teams swore and shifted stance, the Peacock died in pain

That night the cable news was on
And ‘Hubble’ showed its tricks
But both our Sales guys shrugged and said
“So what? Some pretty pics”!

 

(Grant 1996)384p

 

From our original geocities site now archived at http://www.oocities.org/hobb_it/entrer/home/8/PPS/pps.html