10-Minute Exercise 02/10/2018
‘What the Postman Brought.’
The postman never knocked at the door as it upset the dogs – two barking dogs frantically barking and scratching at the inside of the red-painted stable type door was not a thing that any postman wanted to hear.
However, on this particular Tuesday morning in the cold and damp of a typical Cornish Autumn, he was giving the door a good old hammering – possibly similar to the banging on the door that those ‘not’ on the passenger list of the Ark did as the Flood waters rose.
I was in. I was ‘always’ in. I strolled over to the door, the dogs already there, and unlatched the top section – the dogs wouldn’t be able to get at any visitor; and if I needed to shut them up in the lounge – I could do so whilst the caller waited for the all clear.
The postman stood there with a pained expression on his face.
“Call an ambulance! There’s been an accident! Quick!”
“Who has been hurt?” I asked, as I turned to take up the handset of my retro Bakelite phone.
No response. I turned back to him; but the postman had disappeared from view. I moved back to the door, the lead of the phone allowing me to just reach it and look over the lower half. The dogs had become very excited, or agitated.
The postman lay on the threshold and a pool of blood was surrounding him.
“Ambulance!” I spoke into the phone. “The vicarage, Brotherby. The postman seems to have had an accident. Although from the amount of blood, I would say it was more serious than that!”
The Ambulance was on it’s way. I had secured the dogs. I knelt and tried to stem the flow; but the postman was losing blood like there was no tomorrow – possibly for him there wouldn’t be.