Sir Lawrence the 2nd by Chloe Ward

(This week each of the three updates will be written by a different person. Today we have an anedote by my friend and fellow writer, Chloe Ward.)

I was sat on the roof terrace of Graze at the time. I was conversing about random things; university, what I had for tea, pickled onions, ya know the types of conversation you have with your friends. Anyway, we were sat there on our metal chairs with our glasses of ale. The sun was disappearing behind the train station and it was beginning to get cold when a silence came over the group. To fill the silence someone asked, “would you like to hear a funny yet disturbing story?”  We all said yes and so she told us the funny, yet disturbing story about someone she once knew.
    It had been a sleepless night. Fiona had been up and down her corridor all night checking on her dog. Sir Lawrence the 2nd—her massive husky—was not well. She had found him underneath her kitchen table the night before freezing cold. Although he was still eating and drinking, he could not stand and she feared the worst. When she awoke the next morning her first impulse was the ring the vet. She worried that they would put him down, but then again, maybe they could fix him. Her intuition told her to check Sir Lawrence the 2nd first. Sadly, he had passed away during the night.
    After several bursts of tears, Fiona decided to ring the vet. She wanted to get Sir Lawrence the 2nd cremated, only she lived in a built up area in London and the vet was a train away. If she were to take a huge dead dog on the tubes she was sure to receive funny looks. She feared that the workers at the station wouldn’t even let her on the train at all.

    In the end she delicately placed him into her largest suitcase, wrapped him in several towels and set off for the vet. The plan was fool proof. She would take him on the train in the suitcase and since people carried suitcases all the time she had nothing to fear.
    Her plan was going smoothly. She was going down some steps to get to the train. The case was heavy and she was struggling, but she persevered. She was about half way down the steps when a young man approached her. “Would you like a hand with your bag?” He said kindly.
    She analysed the situation. This was her dead dog she was carrying but surely the kind man would never suspect anything?
    “Yes please,” she answered. “That would be fantastic.”
    She passed him the suitcase and she rearranged her hair and such while the man heaved it down the stairs.
    “This is pretty heavy. What do you have in here anyway?” The man was a few steps from the bottom now.
    Panicking she replied with the first thing that sprang to her mind. “Ahh it’s my boyfriend’s DJ equipment.” The man had reached the bottom of the steps now. “Yeah he likes to do that sort of…” She trailed off. The man had picked up the suitcase and ran off with it. Fiona stood there unsure of what had just happened. She didn’t know if to laugh or cry. She was upset yes, but she couldn’t help but imagine the expression on the man’s face when he opened the case expecting to find DJ equipment.
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