March: A Tale of Salmon and Swedes (The Glothic Tales Book 4) by Derek Haines Read Free Book Online Page A

the back of his head on the turf.
    ‘Uurrgghh,’ was all he could manage, as he lay prone on his back, winded, in what felt like something very moist, and then realised that his ability to breathe was not working so well. He tried to move, but all he could manage was another groaning sound, before gasping for breath. Lying still and waiting for his lungs to start working again seemed to be his best option. He let a few minutes pass, gazing up at the darkness, waiting for his ability to breathe to return. Finally, he managed to catch a few half breaths.
    ‘It’s a little easier in daylight. At least you can see the ground coming up and you can prepare yourself for the last little drop.’
    ‘Uh?’
    ‘Welcome to Earth, March, I’m Tryskolia.’
    ‘Where … are …?’ March managed, still struggling to breathe, but able to focus on an elderly woman wearing a pink and white knitted beanie, standing above him.
    ‘Hyde Park,’ she replied, as she offered her walking stick to help him up. ‘Sorry about it being so muddy, but it’s been raining all day long. But then again, it always rains in London.
    ‘Thank …. you,’ March said, as he struggled to his feet, careful not to pull on her walking stick.
    ‘A good thing you came at night though, as Glothic fashion is very definitely not in on Earth, so you would really stand out here if you were seen in public,’ she said, as March looked down at his emerald green velvet body suit with big gold buttons running down the front and wondered what was wrong. There was certainly one thing wrong though. His shiny golden pixie slippers weren’t shining at all, as they were covered in thick black mud. So was the back of his head, but he hadn’t noticed that yet.
    ‘Come on then. I live just across the road, so it’s only a short walk. Once you get cleaned up and changed, we can have a cup of tea and a chat,’ she said, as she walked off, with March finally catching his breath, following a muddy step or two behind her.

When In Rome
    In the darkness of three in the morning it was difficult for March to make out much, other than that Tryskolia had guided him along a path in the park, then across a large road and after a short walk, into a white building. He wiped his muddy slippers on the doormat as best he could before entering.
    ‘I’m on the top floor,’ she said, as they entered an elevator and she found her key. ‘It’s a secure floor.’
    March didn’t really know what that meant, but now, with the benefit of light, he satisfied himself that she was indeed Gregorian.
    ‘It’s the nose, isn’t it?’ she said, sensing where his gaze was focused.
    ‘I’m sorry.’
    ‘That’s all right. Our long Gregorian noses and grey eyes run in the family. Well, mostly grey,’ she added, noticing his green eye.’
    ‘I understand that you like stamp collecting.’
    ‘You have done your research,’ she said, as the elevator dinged, announcing its arrival at her floor. The doors opened directly into an anteroom. ‘Come along then, let’s get you cleaned up,’ she said, as March hesitated at the doors of the elevator.
    ‘Um, yes.’
    ‘This way.’
    ‘Do you prefer to be called Tryskolia or January?’
    ‘My friends here call me Trys, and my enemies, damn Madame Munchk,’ she laughed, as she opened the door from the anteroom to her sitting room, and then carried on through down a hall leading to a large bedroom. ‘Your bathroom is through there, and the wardrobe is stocked with clothes. So get cleaned up and changed, and I’ll make a cuppa and a light supper.’
    ‘Um, thank you … eh, Trys.’
    *****
    It took March some considerable amount of time to make the water work. He waved his hands over everything, but nothing happened. Standing naked in the bath, looking up at the shower nozzle, scratching his goatee and wondering what to do didn’t help at all in making the water work, but it did help in him divining what he should do next. He went back to his