Some years ago, I came across this newspaper article. and I thought it so amusing, I wrote a story around it.
A quiet street turned into a river of blood yesterday when a tanker sprang a leak. More than 2,500 gallons of offal cascaded into the road after a pipe burst as the tanker pumped the blood into a waste tank. Resident Philippa Leavey of Upper Bucklebury, Berkshire, said, “It was like a river of blood coming down the road. “Now the blood has congealed, and cleaners are trying to scrub it off the surface. It stinks and it’s horrible.” A Thames Valley Police spokesman said: “The road will be closed for at least 24 hours. I gather that the smell is appalling.”
Jenny’s romance was over. It had lasted three wonderful weeks. She had fancied Connor McGuire for months. It had taken a long time for him to notice she even existed.
Connor was all she desired in a man, big, muscular, tall, and dark, with a roughness she found attractive. Unfortunately, he did not feel the same about her. He apologised and she was not the woman for him.
Jenny felt devastated. She longed to be his everything. She wanted Connor to sweep her off her feet and shower her with romance.
However, it wasn’t to be. Now, as sat alone at the kitchen table working her way down a bottle of vodka, when she heard an almighty crash.
Jumping to her feet, Jenny immediately felt lightheaded. She grabbed the table’s edge for support. Had a cupboard fallen off the wall? She gazed around. Nothing was out of place.
It took a few moments to realise the noise had come from outside. Jenny went down the stairs, clutching the banister to steady herself as she went.
The front door had two latches, and for a moment, she wondered which to open, until they morphed into one. As she clasped the handle, the door was lighter than she expected. It flung backwards and smacked hard against the wall before swinging forward again almost knocking her off her feet.
The cold air smacked her in the face, and she inhaled deeply. This made her feel light-headed. She stepped outside fixated on the incredible scene ahead.
Jenny tried to focus on the road, but it resembled a river of crimson. She closed her eyes, thinking she must be imagining it, until the neighbours emerged from their houses wearing shocked expressions.
The nauseating stench made Jenny recoil in disgust.
“Bloody hell,” someone nearby yelled, followed by the sound of gagging.
The blood formed pools around the tyres of parked cars, resembling a violent and gory battle.
The cacophony of raised voices brought Jenny to her senses. This was no drunken stupor. A large tanker had crashed into a tree. The driver frantically tried to stop the flow of offal from flooding out of its ruptured side.
Jenny emerged further onto the street, astonished by what she saw. Some of her neighbours vomited, others shouted waving their hands. No one quite knew what to do.
The flow of thick dark, lumpy liquid covered the driver who gazed at Jenny with an embarrassed expression. Blood and guts covered the poor man, making him look like he had fought a terrible war. It took Jenny several moments to realise why he looked specifically at her.
Connor McGuire had never looked so bleeding bad. She giggled at her little joke and went back inside for some strong, hot coffee.
©Karen J. Mossman
If you enjoyed this story and would like to read more from me. These are my books and you can purchase them at different retailers here.
World of Stories 