draliman on life

Here is a story I wrote for What Pegman Saw, which takes us to Palo Duro State Park in Texas.

I seem to drop in and out of Pegman when the muse takes me and when I have time. Hope that’s okay.

Copyright Erik Rathgaber for Google Maps

Jeff checked the environmental seals, as he did every day. The same routine, every day of his life.

Ding dong!

The doorbell! This had never happened before! He ran to the hatch, donned his environmental suit and triggered the release. Outside stood a man… in normal clothes!

“How… how…?”

“Is this bunker 27? What are you all still doing down there? The Earth has been habitable for over 100 years!”

“But… I’ve looked out, every day. There’s nothing… devastation for miles, only scrub…”

“It’s the desert. It’s supposed to look like that.”

“The desert? Why was I not informed?”

“It’s all in the literature.”

“Well, maybe, but who has the time to read all that?”

“Time? Time? You’ve had nothing but time.”

“Hmm. 100 years, you say? I don’t suppose the others’ll be all that happy. Best not tell them. Good day to you.”

Slam.

100 years later…

Ding dong!

Here is my post for What Pegman Saw. This week Pegman is in Gwynedd, Wales. It’s been a few weeks since I’ve contributed 😦

The photo I chose is of the Cross Foxes Inn where I stayed a few years ago on a little holiday. My story is more inspired by Wales than in Wales, and I’ve popped a couple of photos at the end which I took while I was there.

Copyright Google

“At last week’s product meeting we tasked Barry to give us all his view on the market in Wales. Barry?”

“Thank you Alyssa. Ahem. Whales. Monsters of the sea. Grand, majestic…”

“Uh, Barry…”

“… blubber for oil, bone for corsets…”

“Barry, stop! Not only are you horribly out of date but we need your product evaluation for Wales, not whales. Next week?”

“Okay, sorry.”

Next week…

“Okay folks, sorry about last week. Barry, if you will?”

“Thank you. Ahem. Wails. Screams. Screeches. The banshee’s call of dooooom. A weapon of awesome power, to monetise as we see fit…”

“BARRY! Wales. The country.”

“Oh, shit. Sorry everyone. Next week, I promise. A fully comprehensive breakdown of product opportunities in Wales. The country.”

Next week…

“Wales. Damn pretty. Hills, rivers, forests. Nothing we can sell them. They have it all. Luvvvvly.”

“Barry? You’re right. And you’re fired.”

A waterfall in Coed y Brenin forest park, Wales

Copyright me

Here is my story for What Pegman Saw. This week we’re going to Botswana. Tell you what, I must have looked at 100 photospheres before I found one that had animals in it. And you can barely see them.

My story has three people but it’s hopefully easy enough to work out who’s speaking.

Copyright Alexandre Suplicy/Google Maps

“Dada, what dey giwaffies doin’?”

“They’re having lunch, little one.”

“An’ Dada, what is dey zebwas doin’?”

“They’re, um… oh my. One for you, darling!”

“Of course, my love. The zebras are… getting to know each other, because they love each other very very much. And they’re very very nice.”

“Oh. Then you mus’ be vewy vewy nice too, Mama, ‘cos jus’ last week you was getting’ to know da gardener and da pool man and da pizza dewivewy man an’…”

“Uh, my sweet, what is she saying…?”

“Haha just ignore her my love haha the deluded ravings of a confused child haha such an imagination must get it from your mother haha did she say something I didn’t hear her say anything oh look baby elephants let’s go and see the baby elephants…” (races off with the kids)

“Um. Shit.”

Here is my story for What Pegman Saw which this week takes us to the Gurara Waterfalls in Nigeria.

Copyright Eimantas Tamonis for Google Maps

“Ah, the power, the majesty…”

“Don’t jump, mate.”

“No, I’m just enjoying…”

“It’s not worth it. Lost your job?”

“You don’t understand…”

“It’s the wife, right? Shacked up with your best mate?”

“No, really, I just want some peace and quiet to…”

“It’s not worth killing yourself over.”

“Listen, you need to…”

“Just ‘cos he’s a stallion in the sack and you’re more of an eager hamster…”

“What? What? You… you…” shove

“Aaaargh… nooooot agaaaaaaain…” splash!

“That’s better. Ah, the power, the majesty…”

2 weeks later, after yet another stay in hospital…

“Oh, the gorgeous view…”

“Hey, lady, don’t jump, it’s not worth it.”

“Excuse me? No, I’m just enjoying…”

“It’s the old man, right? Shacked up with your best mate…”

Here is my story for What Pegman Saw which this week takes us to Yellowstone National Park in America.

Copyright Blake Everson for Google Maps

Samuel crept silently through the trees, rifle held loosely in his hands. He had eschewed the traditional brightly-coloured hunter’s jacket for camouflage, blending in perfectly with his surroundings.

Carefully avoiding tourists and park rangers he moved silently through the caldera, at last spying signs of his prey. Footprints, small yet distinct – fresh. He peered through a bush… there! His quarry, resting in a clearing.

Raising the rifle to his eye, he sighted and gently, ever so gently, applied pressure to the trigger. A twang and he suddenly shot off the ground, caught in a net, his shot going hopelessly wide! Another of his quarries ran past and the pair disappeared, laughing, into the trees.

Finally he arrived home, having spent hours sawing through the net.

“Any luck, dear?”

“Grr. No. It’s true what they say. He is smarter than the av-er-age bear.”

Sorry, did you say Yellowstone Park? Oops.

[Note: I was going to pop a picture at the end but didn’t want to spoil the punchline, so if there’s anyone who didn’t get the reference, you can click here 🙂 ]

Here is my story for What Pegman Saw. This week we are in Terni, Italy.

This was the birthplace of Saint Valentine, celebrated on February 14th. I chose a rather idyllic scene from the outskirts of the town. Let’s see how it all began!

Copyright Google

Valentinus looked over his lands and smiled. Life was good.

It had started out slow. He’d carried a love letter from a suitor to his sweetheart. Once others heard, his services were in demand.

Ever the entrepreneur, he’d monetised it. Charged people to take part. Hired a local artisan to build little boxes, each with two sections. If someone liked someone else they placed some papyrus with their name on in the corresponding person’s right-hand section. If the names matched in two right-hand sections, Valentinus would arrange a meeting (for a small extra fee, of course). The left-hand box and he’d let them down gently.

Easy peasy.

He called it “Tinderus”. It sounded catchy, he thought. He was providing an essential service. A service to love. (What a great strapline, he thought.)

He ought to be canonised after he died, he reckoned. “Saint Valentinus” had such a nice ring to it.

Here is my story for What Pegman Saw which this week takes us to Bristol, England.

This week sees the return of our hapless, newly divorced traveller (though don’t worry, this is a self-contained story). Let’s see how he gets on!

“So, here I am, my suitcase filled with bikinis and sandals.”

“Lovely.”

“No, not lovely. I have a selection of sunhats. Litres of sun tan cream.”

“It’s best to be safe.”

“Days on the beach, I thought. A trip to Marseilles, maybe even Barcelona, I thought.”

“Hmm, I’m not sure that’s really on the cards.”

“No, it’s not, is it. We’re standing here in the pouring rain. And it’s freezing.”

“The weather is somewhat disappointing, I’ll give you that.”

“No, I’ll tell you what’s disappointing. Come with me to Montpellier, you said. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything, you said. I’ll book the lot, you said. You seem to have lost an ‘l’.”

“An ‘l’, darling?”

“Oh, we’re in Montpelier, all right. Montpelier, BRISTOL! With ONLY ONE ‘L’!”

“I had a similar mishap when I was holidaying with my ex.”

“Goodbye forever. Don’t call.”

Here is my story for What Pegman Saw. This week we are in the Dominican Republic, which shares an island with Haiti.

Copyright Andy Javier Garcia Hidalgo and Google

The soldiers shifted nervously as the first of the Horde came into sight. Crossing the border from the voodoo country of Haiti, the Horde shuffled forwards, dead eyes cast downward. Some bumped unseeing into trees, other tripped and fell only to pick themselves up and continue their inexorable march.

General Diego picked up his radio. “They are come. Initiate Operation Repel.”

Sergeant Manuel took a deep breath, glanced at his fellows and pushed a button.

The leading edge of the Horde stopped. At first confused, frantically waving their arms in the air as if searching for something, terror soon set in. They turned, screaming and fled back towards Haiti. Finally, all had gone.

General Diego sighed. “I hate having to do that. But they just wander mindlessly about, spending no money, glued to YouTube. Not the type of tourist we want. And if switching off the mobile phone signal sends them running back across the border…”