On the third drive by, his mind was almost made up. Parking the car in a nearby side road, he strolled towards the second hand shop to have a closer look at the sofa that caught his eye 5 minutes ago. Not too shabby and a price that his pocket wouldn't choke at, hands were shaken and the purchase was complete. Delivery would be next day.
Once he'd found the perfect place for it, he sat for a while, enjoying his slightly worn, slightly faded beige sofa. Ten minutes later, with hoover in hand, he carefully stroked the velvet material in a vain attempt to bring it back to life. Knowing that junk tends to fall down the sides and the back, he removed the attachment and plunged the nozzle down one side, then the other and finally down the back.
Rattling noises shivered up the hose, sucking up the relics from previous owners, when suddenly the engine whirred. Something was stuck. He pulled out the hose to find a crumpled piece of paper causing the blockage. He switched off the hoover, sat on the arm of the sofa and unfolded.
Scrawled on the paper were just three words; "Please help me".
Casting the note aside, he finished what he'd started, before making himself a coffee and sitting on the small wall that edges his garden. Outside, he sipped at the mug and took thoughtful drags on his cigarette. His mind played with thoughts and scenarios, as it did for the rest of the evening. Try as he did to dismiss the note, it led him to have a restless night and by first light, he had already decided to return to the shop.
His first knocks on the shutter received No Reply, but he persisted. Then he heard the owner shouting out that the shop didn't open for another thirty minutes. Once again, his persistence paid off when he pleaded with the owner to spare him just a few minutes of his time.
"I can't tell you much about him I'm afraid. It was Jack who dealt with the gentleman and he's not working today. I think we also bought some books from him. Let me see...."
After a few minutes, the owner returned with two books. One a children's nursery rhyme book and the other a book about the local history of Eccles. He fumbling for coins in his pockets...."I'll take them", he said.
Back at his house, he frantically flicked through the pages and vigorously shook the books upside down, hoping for another note. No note appeared. He wasn't sure if it was relief or frustration that he felt.
Several days later, casually flicking through the local history book, a page suddenly leapt out at him. A page with an overhead map drawing, but more significantly, a circle around one of the houses.
Leaping into his car and driving like the devil, the journey felt like slow motion replay.
Finally....he arrived....but too late.
Erm. I hate to ask, but did you read the task brief?
Posted by: Big Blogger | Thursday, 19 July 2007 at 19:20
I did indeed.
The post is 500 words and I have included as many place names in there as possible.
Posted by: bedshaped | Thursday, 19 July 2007 at 19:24
So, Eccles?
Posted by: Big Blogger | Thursday, 19 July 2007 at 19:28
What can I say....I struggled with this task, but meeting the minimum requirements means I haven't failed the task, right?
Posted by: bedshaped | Thursday, 19 July 2007 at 19:30
Does a failed task count as a non-submission and therefore mean eviction?
Posted by: Cat | Thursday, 19 July 2007 at 19:40
You may be correct.
But as my RE teacher used to say: "Must try harder".
Oh shit! It's not just Eccles. You mentioned Nowhere too! Bravo! And judging by some of the names other people have found, I shall assume that Hoover In Hand is a small hamlet in West Dorset.
Posted by: Big Blogger | Thursday, 19 July 2007 at 19:41
I ask for me, not you, Bedshaped. Just in case you think me a bitch.
Posted by: Cat | Thursday, 19 July 2007 at 19:41
No Cat, it doesn't. It just means you're rubbish.
Posted by: Big Blogger | Thursday, 19 July 2007 at 19:41
Oi. I spent a lot of time and effort on my task, thank you very much.
Posted by: Cat | Thursday, 19 July 2007 at 19:42
I'm only pulling your pud. I think everyone's done absolutely brilliantly on this task.
Apart from bedshaped.
Posted by: Big Blogger | Thursday, 19 July 2007 at 19:43
Bedshaped - I think it's genius...
Posted by: penfold | Thursday, 19 July 2007 at 19:47
Me too. Just great.
Posted by: Clare | Thursday, 19 July 2007 at 20:40
Sadly I've just realised that if Tippler wins immunity then I'm next in line for eviction.
Ah well, it has been fun.
Posted by: Clare | Thursday, 19 July 2007 at 20:41
Bob and Joseph have 18 minutes (plus injury time, ie. if they've had to run to the bathroom to put a plaster on their big toe that they've just stubbed on a doorframe while doing the hoovering in the nip, something I know nothing about obviously) to get this task handed in.
No task equals high jump time.
I'm just sayin' like.
Posted by: Big Blogger | Thursday, 19 July 2007 at 20:43
Clare we can leave together - heads held high. Then blub into our white wine spritzers in the snug bar of the Coach and Horses on Monday night...
Posted by: penfold | Thursday, 19 July 2007 at 20:51
This has honestly never happened before, but I think I might cry.
Watching The Bill always has this effect.
Posted by: Big Blogger | Thursday, 19 July 2007 at 20:54
"never happened before" and "always has this effect"...
Make your mind up! ;o)
Where's the Coach and Horses? I'm there.
Posted by: Clare | Thursday, 19 July 2007 at 22:08
Oh, and can we do more snogging there? I liked the snogging...
Posted by: Clare | Thursday, 19 July 2007 at 22:09
Don't you know I'm the confused type?
Posted by: Big Blogger | Thursday, 19 July 2007 at 22:16
Definitely...
Posted by: penfold | Thursday, 19 July 2007 at 22:19
That was for the snogging not the confusion. Although I may not be disagreeing with that either...
Posted by: penfold | Thursday, 19 July 2007 at 22:20