Roy woke up and cursed himself for having slept through his alarm; he would have to hurry now if he was going to make it on time. In minutes he was dressed, packed and out the door. Realising he had forgotten his phone, Roy opened the house and returned inside. As he grabbed his phone from the kitchen bench he looked at the fruit bowl. He didn’t have time for a proper breakfast, but he knew he should eat something. At the back of the bowl, having migrated there overnight and settled in the remains of a long-forgotten peach was the banana. That’ll do, thought Roy.
Roy never thought much of that banana. He all but ignored it until he needed something to eat. Even as he picked it up from the fruit bowl he was oblivious to its changed appearance. When he lifted the banana, a small portion of the peach’s skin stuck to one end, along with a generous helping of long, grey mould. It looked like a yellow Albert Einstein wearing a slimy yarmulke.
Roy exited the house for the second time in as many minutes. He needed his hands free to lock the door behind him, so he slipped his phone into the front pocket of his jeans, and then, without looking, placed the mouldy end of the unpeeled banana in his mouth. His taste buds immediately rejected the contaminated fruit and it dropped to the ground. Roy bent over, gagging and spitting. The moment he doubled over he heard a high pitch humming sound, followed shortly after by a loud crack that echoed through his street. Roy stood up and looked around, but no one was to be seen except his next door neighbour, Eddie, standing on his front porch looking menacingly at the house across the road. Roy wiped the mould off his breakfast-to-go, and then tucked it under his arm. As he locked the house he noticed a perfectly round hole in his front door that had not been there earlier. It was right at eye level, about three inches in diameter. The area around the hole had a thin, blue glow, and was emitting intense heat. Both the glow and the heat faded in a matter of seconds. It was strange all right, but Roy didn’t have time to investigate holes in doors—he had a local football league grand final to win.
He made it to the driveway and almost into his car, when he heard Eddie call out. Roy sighed. He always tried to avoid his neighbour, and if he did have to engage him he kept the conversation short. This was in part because Roy found other people not nearly as interesting as himself, but also because Eddie had an almost indecipherable accent. “Hoy Roy!” he yelled.
“Morning, Eddie,” said Roy. “Did you hear that noise just now?”
“Nat portent, da noise,” said Eddie. “You plee what bog game.”
“Bog game. You when on da game. Had a cack girls! Ten girls!”
“Oh yeah,” said Roy. “Ten goals! Yeah, I’ll try to kick some goals today, thanks Eddie. I’ve gotta go.”
“Had a bay ten girls,” insisted Eddie. “Ten girls!”
With that, Roy got into his car and reversed onto the street. As he drove off, his thoughts were only for the game he was about to play, how many goals he would kick, and how much people would love him for kicking those goals. He forgot about the hole in his front door, he forgot Eddie’s instructions, and he forgot about the slightly underripe banana lying on the passenger seat of his car.
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