Lousie’s journey

Lousie the louse picked up her bag in one of her six arm-legs.  She slung it onto her hard, scaly back and climbed down from the snail.  She was late.  The problem with snails was that they were so unreliable.  You never knew when they were going to stop to munch on a lettuce leaf or a dandelion stalk.  Never mind, she pipped.  She was there now, well almost there.  Although she could see the School of Scabies and Radical-grunge way in the distance she still had a fair distance to scurry.  She was always hopeful about catching a lift on a passing human but more often that not they rushed by her on their two wheeled contraptions, not even noticing her on the path.  More than once she had been nearly squashed into the kerb or knocked sideways into the gutter.  She wished that they would realise that it was only creatures with legs that were allowed on the path and not creatures with wheels.

On she scurried.  The morning was warm and sunny and before long she was feeling very hot indeed.  The bag on her back seemed to be getting heavier and heavier.  It was banging uncomfortably against her rear left arm-leg.  There was no point in scurrying slowly.  On the occasions she did make a conscious effort to slow down and enjoy the journey her legs over took her brain and they speeded up, as thought they had a mind of their own.  She always ended up scuttling into the building at full speed.

Today was no different.  The journey so far had passed without her even noticing it.  She was now passing the derelict store houses.  Once these had held the flour belonging to the weevils.  She had never seen a weevil using them but she had heard stories about the old days when this was a busy and important place.  Most creatures’ comforts had passed through the docks here.  There had once been a constant stream of swans ferrying supplies backwards and forwards between the warehouses and pigeons flying messages about orders all around the region.  Now the swans swum aimlessly, looking hopefully at the humans for some food.  There was mass unemployment in this area now.  The pigeons were not as busy as they used to be either.  No one wanted their messaging services. Large bats had moved in from warmer climates and were using their unique sonar messaging system to pass on communications between creatures.  Lousie had to agree that they were more reliable than the pigeons and a lot more convenient.  The warehouses were empty now and some were being demolished.  Giant stag beetles were there this morning, nibbling away at the infrastructure with their enormous pincers.  They looked like mechanical machines from the distance.

Lousie sighed.  Things didn’t stay still for long.  There was always change.  She paused at the pelican crossing, waiting for a break in the human traffic.  Pelican crossing she thought.  It was a wonder they were still called that.  There had not been pelicans at crossings for years, not since she was a grub.  They were ever so friendly birds.  Only interested in helping little lice across the road.  Not like the crossings now.  They were supposed to be controlled by puffins.  Puffins indeed!  They were useless.  You could never see them, and when they were there they were no use at stopping traffic.  She definitely preferred the pelicans.  They were much safer.

WHOOOSH!!!

A human on a two wheeled contraption sped past, knocking Lousie into the stripy post of the flashing beacons on which the puffins were supposed to sit.  She shouted at the human but he never heard her shrill voice.  He ignored her and carried on his way, scattering other creatures as he went.

Lousie muttered to her self.  She hated those things.  They were a real danger to the creatures in this area but no one seemed willing to do anything about them.  They just put up with them and moved out their way, when they saw them coming that is.

Eventually she rounded the last corner and there was her place of work, Suffering Coprolite, in front of her.  It was a strange sort of building.  Covered in a thick crust that blocked out all the light.  In the hot weather it smelled slightly too.  There were rumours that it was going to be knocked down but no one knew when.

Lousie climbed the stairs to her office and went in.  “Morning Louise” said one of her colleagues.  Lousie grimaced.  Why couldn’t they get her name right?  Why couldn’t they call her Lousie?  Never mind.  This was far better than working at the Nonefolk and Northtown.