Now What Was I ?

Now I know the future. I have been to a Fashion Parade at Townsend Park, where my mum lives. The fashions were from Bedazzled, presented by Faye. The models were ladies from Townsend Park.

The future is striped tops and zip-up jackets and pull-on pants. It is orange, green, plum, aquamarine, black and white. It is rather portly, and puts too much butter on its scones. It parades in a self conscious manner and disappears before Faye has finished her spiel. It sits on rows of chairs in striped tops, zip-up jackets and pull-on pants and sips white wine and speaks of the pain of others. It laughs.

The future is listening to Faye read a poem while the models change their outfits from one set of pull-on pants to another. Faye has not written the poem, which is about getting old. She only wants to sell as many outfits as she can.

It is one of those internet poems about the indignities of old age. It ends with someone telling the narrator that it's time she started thinking about the hereafter. I think about it every time I go into a room, reads Faye. I think to myself, now what was I here after.

How funny it would have been, had Faye read it correctly, will never be determined. For Faye's printed poem contained a misprint, and she had failed to pick it up, so that she read out very clearly and deliberately, NOW WHAT AS I HERE AFTER.

And the future clapped politely.