Eric Preet's Week of Sins

Eric Preet's Week of Sins

MONDAY - Pride

ON MONDAY, I woke up. I looked at myself in the mirror and wondered how someone could look so perfect first thing in the morning. And I wasn't even Jane Asher. I checked the letterbox. Yes, the usual papers, letters and excrement were there. Still, what did a little crap mean to a man whose good looks and charm had won admirers from everywhere? One envelope caught my eye. After bathing it with Optrex, I managed to read it. 'YOU HAVE WON A HOLIDAY FOR LIFE!' screamed the envelope. Screaming envelopes. What will they think of next? I'd won a competition! Well, of course I had. Why should I be surprised? I'm a hunky, sexy, witty, successful sort of guy. I was probably the love child of Robert Redford and Stephen Fry.

Some muesli and lemon tea were allowed into the hallowed domain of my digestive system. I thought of allowing a banana in, but the bouncers at the door to my face thought I'd had enough. Can't risk starting love handles on the torso that has massaged so many women to ecstasy.

So, I'd won a competition! I went to work with a bounce. Straight towards an open manhole.

TUESDAY - Anger

CONSCIOUSNESS DECIDED to pay a return visit and I couldn't believe my eyes. They were in a jam jar on the bedside table. I could see myself lying on my back in a hospital bed. I screwed my eyeballs back in, discharged myself and went home.

Only, I didn't get home. I was so angry with the holiday firm that had caused the mishap that I went to their offices to complain. After it was pointed out that it was unlawful to throw bricks through windows, I was arrested. The magistrate showed no sense of humour when I asked for some sponge with my custody.

WEDNESDAY - Envy

I WAS IN prison for the whole of Wednesday. Prisoners were allowed newspapers and I speed-read the front page headline: 'Wotta Lot o' Lotto!' Huh. Another undeserving lottery millionaire. Why couldn't I get a look in? I often picked the winning numbers. One of these days I'd have to buy a ticket. I was seething. Then the name of the winner leaped out at me. I knew her! It was Bounteous Brenda from Bromley. My luck was turning, She owed me a favour. Four years back, I had helped her move. Getting her twenty-two-stone bulk into a wheelbarrow and pushing her all the way to Bromley was no mean feat. It certainly left my feet feeling mean. I remember her saying if there was anything I ever wanted, and she meant anything apparently, I could call on her anytime.

That night I was assailed by phantoms and racked by doubt and fear. I failed to get to the exam room on time and my mother appeared except she looked like a skeleton and she pointed at me, laughing and cackling. With all that happening, it's no surprise my cellmate and I got no sleep.

THURSDAY - Lust

AS EXPECTED, I was released the next day. But they gave me a caution: 'The contents of takeaway apple pies might be hot.'

Bromley! The sort of sleepy suburbia that should be the bed-manufacturing capital of the world. Iwas going to claim what was rightfully mine. I rang the doorbell and got no response. I pressed harder, The bell button felt strangely soft and pliant. I looked up. There was the grinning face of Bounteous Brenda. I had been trying to gain her attention by unwittingly fondling her right nipple. I wasn't surprised. She was built like a barn door, so she could easily have been mistaken for a large front door. Complete with knockers.

"Ooh, hello Eric, I've always liked men with a firm touch," she purred as most of my clothing disintegrated under her grasp.

"Listen, Brenda..Ha! Ha! Ha! Stoppit!" I struggled. "I've come here to get one thing straight."