Something Intrudes on an Ordinary Life

Something Intrudes an Ordinary Life

A Saturday evening usually passed by with nothing particularly to do, so they would prepare and eat a meal and then have a look to see what to watch on TV. They both enjoyed bingeing a series and could go through a whole one in a week, with 2 and a half episodes per day and an extra episode at the weekend. They disliked watching a series one episode per week, as they forgot nearly everything in between and it took more than the ‘previously on’ trailer to remind them what had occurred before the current episode.

But by ‘devouring’ each TV series, they were inevitably left with very little that was new to watch. Which meant that six months ago, they had invested in a streaming service. They worried that this made them seem boring, but their work colleagues were always happy to discus the latest crime thriller, or Scandi Noir, or the latest episodes of an ADHD sleuth. So that suggested that other people watched TV a lot too.

The new service led to them bingeing series that they had never seen before, and they would snuggle down on the sofa and rejoice in watching a show that was seven series in. Starting at series one gave them a lovely long time without needing to search for something else.
On this particular Saturday evening, the streaming service, ‘Something for Everyone’ wasn’t working properly. He got up and looked at the dish, that was indoors, so as not to be affected by weather extremes. The lights were all on, no error message. No plugs were switched off -all was as it should be. He wiggled the wire at the back of the telly, the Smart connection was secure. Honestly, that was all he was capable of, but it made them both feel better that everything was checked.

He was just about to phone the support help number for ‘Something for Everyone’, when there came a knocking sound from the TV. They both turned to face it. There was a gaunt man stood inside the TV screen, or on a programme, that was more likely. He said, “Hello, can you see me? Can you hear me?”
She giggled, because he answered back. “Yes, we can see and hear you. Do you know what’s wrong?
The man responded, “Oh thank goodness, I was beginning to think that I would never get out of here!”
“How do you think we can help?” She said waspishly. He looked at her closely, with his nose practically touching the screen. She could see his untrimmed nose hairs and moved slightly back.

He said, “I can understand how you are feeling. You have probably never been spoken to by your TV before. If it helps you believe me, I can see that you are wearing a pretty, blue top and a pair of dark blue jogging bottoms and your slippers have jaunty silver threads in them.” He looked out of the screen at her, with a friendly grin and said, “what’s your name?”
She squeaked and sat down quickly, feeling stupid.
He, on the other hand, was intrigued. “How long have you been in there? How did you get to be able to speak to us. – I’m guessing you are not actually in my- our set, but that doesn’t add up, because there must be a camera in our set, for you to be able to see what we are wearing. I didn’t sign up for that; it must be illegal!”

The gaunt man’s manner changed very quickly. He frantically looked around him. Then he reached a hand through the screen and said, “help me, let me out to hide- quick!”
Without thinking, she reached out and grabbed his hand, ready to pull him out. Quick as a flash, she was pulled forward into the TV and she disappeared into the TV screen with a gentle pop, as a white glow descended over the screen, flickered and disappeared, like a white sheet dropping down, or a curtain at the end of a performance.

He stood, puzzled. Alone.
He said, “She’s gone” and waited for her to come back. After two days of sitting still peering into the blank screen and using up the batteries in the remote control, skipping through programmes fast forwarding then and rewinding them, in the hope of seeing her, in her pretty blue top and her dark blue jogging bottoms, with her silver sparkly slippers.

He called the police, who when he explained what had happened, soothed him gently and wrote it all up. They took him to a high security mental health hospital. It was several months later that the case came to court. He stuck to his story, with never a deviation, much to their surprise and chagrin. There was not enough evidence to bring a case against him. They had no witnesses, no body, no confession. No case, said the Judge and let him go.