Under Enemy Fire*

Having just gotten dressed, in a pretty sun dress and lathered on my sunblock, I decided it was time for a cup of tea.  I walked out of my room into the sunlight and across the lawn towards the kitchen, thinking of the prospects the day held and the things I needed to get done.  With a spring in my step, a song in my heart and a smile on my face – today was going to be a good day.  Suddenly out of the blue, I felt it hit me on my right bare shoulder, a bullet hurtling through space, I was under enemy fire.  Ouch I yelled as I felt the wet warm blood course out, take cover.  Stop drop and roll!  Okay that’s for fires but it does have a place in these hostile war like situations.  The blood cooled down quickly, the stinging pain was still there, but wait it smelt funny, it didn’t have the iron make me wanna gag smell that generally accompanies blood.  No this had an ‘I want to gag’ smell make no mistake about that but from the eu de toilet range.  Yes odour the toilet – definitely a waste excrement.  As I gathered my wits about me and looked down at my shoulder, forcing my nasal passages to encounter this aroma more fully – I saw the mustard yellow colorant boardering on khaki green, the birds kept flying overhead and I thought – “is this really supposed to be good luck?”