Sunday, 4 July 2010

A Nocturnal Mirage

I was disturbed as I overtook the girl cyclist on the country road through the hills. Something was not right. It was dusk and she was peddling fast downhill, making it hard to get past.

Then it struck me. She was wearing a black taffeta ballgown, under her hi viz yellow waistcoat. Why? Had she lost a bet?

The answer was around the next corner. I jammed my breaks on to avoid running into three girls with long flowing blonde hair, standing in the middle of the road. All were in ball gowns. One deep red, one yellow and one turquoise. Collectively they resembled the Moldovan national flag.

It was the local school prom at the country house hotel and the girls just disembarked from their taxi. It was good to see it taking place because another school I had recently taken had cancelled theirs.

"It was fine when it started," said the teacher, " then the parents and children started to outdo each other. First they hired larger cars, then Bentleys, then stretch limos. The final straw was when one student arrived in a Monster truck, demolished the school gates and churned up the lawns. We stopped it."

Judging by the state of the steady stream of old bangers which were now coming down the road, there was no danger of this prom being cancelled by the school.

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