The hole story – part 1


The rain had been heavy in the night. I left the house and put my saxophone in the boot of the car.  I turned and stopped. There was a hole. In the drive. Just behind the car. I peered down. It was a hole big enough for my fist. Deep in the gloomy depths I could just see the gravel that had been on the surface when I last parked the car.

This was unexpected.

I found a long stick and poked it tentatively down the abyss. It passed easily through the gravel topping and squelched further down. Three feet below normal ground level it stopped abruptly. My morale improved. A bottomless pit would have been a problem. A bottomed pit could be a collapsed drain, a disused nuclear bunker, a dragon’s lair or a secret house for pixies.

I returned to the house and called Mrs R.  “There is a hole in the drive. It needs looking into.”

(to be continued)…

6 Responses to “The hole story – part 1”

  1. 1 Ann

    Wonderful – the drive is a living entity which has evolved a stragegy for coping with unexpected volumes of rain. Me – I had to pay for a drain.

  2. Similar thing happened to my parents a couple of years ago – turned out there was a well in the driveway and at some previous point it had just had a few planks of wood laid over the top; one of which subsequently rotted through.

  3. No, there was only one of them. My dad, being a traditionalist, put down some more wood for the next owners to enjoy the excitement of discovery.

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