Monday, 21 April 2014
Intruder in the pig house
I started off by being in the street where I grew up. My mums house was empty and I didn't have a key anymore. The neighbours house had a Triumph Stag car on the driveway.
I said to myself that the car belonged to Robert who used to live there and that I should get a key to mums house from my nan to check on the place.
I was next out cycling with my wife and another person but I couldn't see who they were. We stopped as my wife's back wheel kept locking up.
We were inspecting the bike, which was covered in mud, and three small boys approached us. They started to point out that it was the mud stopping the wheel from turning. I then noticed that my wife had a personalised number plate on her bike with her initials on it.
Lastly we were in a house I didn't recognise. At the back of the kitchen was a larder type room that we had converted into a house for our guinea pigs. Our dog ran into the pig house and started barking.
I went in to get him out and found a black man hiding in there. I grabbed hold of him and shouted to my wife to call the police. I started to drag the man out through the house and into the street.
By the time I got the man into the street he had turned into a large bag of hay. I still sat on it in case it eascaped. As I sat waiting for the police, a bus drove past with two men running ahead of it. They were doing karate chops raising money for charity.
Posted by Max Walsh
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