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Litter Skitter
by Alan Pinkett

A piece of litter skittered down the road driven by the strong wind.

Helter-skelter, litter-skitter.

“Ooh, aah, ow!”

It bounced off a tree.


The air from a van going the other way spun it back in the opposite direction and it rose up in a vortex.

“Whoa, whoa, dizzee… “

The driving force from the van eventually running out, the litter stopped momentarily at height.

A little litter loiter.

Before the descent started…


The wind took up the role of main driver again as it neared the ground, but not enough to prevent a hard landing on the road.


The skittering bounce resumed.

“Ooh, aah, ow!”

This was getting depressing. Was this really to be the future? Bashed and battered back and forth around the streets? It longed for an end to it all…

But it wasn’t over yet - the litter was approaching a small patch of grass.

“Oh no, not the dog’s muck!”

A small patch of grass known locally as Dog Empty Green.

“Help… “

Blessedly, the fervent prayer to the patron saint of litter, St. Bin, worked for once... Missed the lot...

“Phew… “

But still the wind blew the litter on. A garden wall loomed.

“No, not the gatepost… “

No, not the gatepost. But straight into a pedestrian, instead. One of those nice soft pedestrians.

“Oops a daisy… “

Dangerous business hitting pedestrians, though. Could get you kicked…

But the litter was safe - the pedestrian was a kindly soul. He lifted it gingerly from his calf between two fingernails and popped it into a nearby bin.

“Aah… “ It had reached Bin heaven. It was all over at last… On the way to the great landfill burial ground…