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No News is not always good News.

My lovely wife and I went to our local Jewellers to have the watch cleaned and oiled that her mother once gave her for a Birthday present. My wife told me to stay in the car. There was a flight of steps leading up to the jeweller’s doorway I watched my hearts delight and to my fear she tripped there was nothing to hold on to for a week previously the jeweller had part of the wall repaired and the hand rail had not been put back onto the wall. Sitting in the car I watched as my wide fell backwards. A deep cut in her skull. An ambulance ride for us both to one of the local hospitals I tried to tell myself head injuries always bleed not much to worry about. Yes head injuries do bleed very much. The Doctors and Nurses were excellent and my heartthrob was soon stitched and put to bed. That afternoon I went to visit my sweetheart. Three computer tomographies and four days later I was allowed to take her home also in an ambulance. Now the problems are when can she wash her hair. Today I have put her in a taxi and told the driver to take her to the Hairdressers. The Jeweller came to see how my wife was getting on. She took advantage of my wife by pushing a new but very cheap watch into her hand. My wife refused to take it but as the woman insisted, I thought it better to tell her outright that the matter has been put into the hands of my wife’s lawyer. One cheap watch to pay for, four days in hospital, the different taxi costs, I still had to do the shopping, my wife could not have a bath or wash her head and felt with the pain really rough, All because one of the shop walls needed a repair and no one bothered to replace the hand rail going up the steps into the shop. Now it will go to court and we will see what becomes of the whole case. I have not put in a claim for myself although through worry and the lack of sleep I have not been able to write any poems no prose, I have sadly neglected my friends both here on Postpoems.org also on Twitter and Face book. Please excuse my neglection this is the start of a new bunch of writings from your scribbler Bern