In a flap

Henry was making funny noises on Monday. Like a rattling noise. I didn’t like it, but I didn’t do anything about it.

Today, I was going to the supermarket, but I was wary about the noise. As I was getting in the oven that Henry turns into at this time of year, these two pigeons flapped themselves all over the garden’s airspace. They flapped onto next door’s old shed, then flapped into the tree behind it. One of them sidled along the branch to the other and flapped it away.

I didn’t get far in Henry before I decided that the noise was too dodgy for comfort, so I went back home, where Mr Perkins awaited me on the drive. When I leant out the window to ask him to move out the way so I could park, he did not move, but sniffed Henry instead. I had to leave Henry where he was, which meant I had a tight squeeze getting out the door.

Once in the house, I told the garage that Henry was making a noise that sounded either like something was rubbing against something it shouldn’t or like something was going to fall off. I’m taking him round in the morning.

Some time later, with Mr Perkins out the way, I put Henry back where he’s supposed to be.