Metween

There were some people ahead of me in the queue who didn't look like they should have been there.
'Sorry, do you mind if I move up closer to the front? I'm doing this for my blog,' I explained to them. However, not only did they not move, one of them even looked away! Fuck this, I thought and started to push forward. This seemed to be a little more successful; people frowned and said 'HEY!' but no one pulled me back. At this point I was only three people from the front. I kept my muscles tensed in case someone wanted to take my newly obtained place. No one tried it. After another ten minutes or so I was at the very top, anticipation manifesting itself in tiny beads of sweat on my upper lip and either side of my nose.
'Next!'
I raced over to the vacant booth and sat down. A woman sat behind the sheet of glass with a blonde wig on, it must have been a wig because it was white-blonde.
'Blow into that tube,' she ordered.
I looked to my side and became aware of a small rubber tube dangling from the wall.
'Into this?'
'Yes, blow into it hard.'
I let out a great puff of wheeze through a small o in my mouth, most of it entering the tube. The woman looked down at a small box on her side of the glass.
'Ok, you're going to have to go to suite 4,' she said.
'Where's that?' I asked, genuinely unsure.
'Malcolm is going to escort you,' she replied and sure enough, Malcolm appeared behind me.
'This way sir,' he said.
I got up and followed him out a different door than the one I come in. We travelled down a bare concrete corridor which smelled of stale ciggarettes. At the end of it a few plastic chairs stood in front of a double doored exit. Malcolm took a small black pistol from his armpit and aimed it at my head.
'Suite 4!' I said, before being shot through the temporal lobe. I no longer know what time it is.

Junction 7 Lucan

The sun reflected off the top of my newly shaven head and the wind blasted my face cold. I was sitting in a convertible car, cruising the M50 at top speed. It was Christmas day and fuck all people were on the road. I had no idea who I had stolen the vehicle from, but I laughed at the irony of taking something away from someone on such a gift-driven morning.
"A fine gift to me!" I shouted, pressing down on the accelerator. I remembered back to my days in work when this stretch of motorway was packed with cars in the morning. I'd waited so long for this moment. Fantasised about it daily; dreaming of tearing along this very lane in a convertible.
I turned on the radio which blasted "Santa Claus is Coming To Town" from the speakers. The power I felt was incredible. The slightest movement of the steering wheel made the car glide sideways across the lanes. It was exhilarating. Keeping one hand firmly on the wheel and screaming along with lyrics of the song I bent down to pick up a bottle of West Coast Cooler. I chewed open the lid and slugged down a decent quantity of the drink. This is the life, I thought and called out with all my voice.
"Wahey!!!! Merry fucking Christmas you fucking witless apes!! Enjoy your puddings and turkeys you morons!! You're missing out on a continent of fun!!" In my excitement I threw the half empty bottle over the windshield, not expecting it to come straight back and crack off the top of my head. My vision went for a split second, followed closely by searing pain. Instinctively, I reached up and put my hand to point of injury.
Mistake, mistake, mistake.
The next thing I know, the car is heading straight for a sandy ramp in some roadworks off to the side. I tried to spin the wheel, but it was no use. The car hit the ramp at an incredible speed and launched into the air.
From my soaring vantage point I could see I was heading straight for a cottage. I put my hands in front of my face and waited for the inevitable crash. Time seemed to stop and I felt an urge to turn off the radio, as the song was too loud now. In a moment the car sailed straight through the roof of the little building and my consciousness went for a lengthy stroll.
Luckily I was completely uninjured and the elderly couple who lived there both suffered from arthritis. If it wasn't for me, they would still be alive and suffering from that painful and stressful disease.