And that was it.

A short story that my mum seems to think reflects my own life of hiding in my room all day.

And that was it. He made it. He was safe, at home, his door locked and keys placed nicely on the hook where he had left them that morning.

It was hard surviving the day without getting killed- or at least mortally wounded.  He was never leaving his house again. Not even to fill in his prescription for his asthma puffer.

He has absolutely no idea why his mother held- what most people would call an ‘intervention’ at his house two days previously, demanding that he radically change his outlook on life.

It was a dangerous world out there.

There were so many risks, for instance; he, a thirty year old man, working in customer service from his computer at home, was almost killed by a stray bucket just that morning.

Yes a stray bucket!

You see, he was walking home to his small, secluded apartment (he would never drive a vehicle, way too dangerous!) when a car came screeching around the corner and ran over a blue bucket. This horrid, evil, bucket was ran over at just the right angle that bits of bucket went flying at his face! BIG bits of bucket too!

Luckily he managed to dodge them, but what if he hadn't seen them coming? What then? Well, he would have been hit and would have fallen over and broken his poor neck on the curb!

So there is the point, he was never, ever leaving his house again. Ever. His mother was simply delusional if she thought she was going to get him to.

Ah, now that that nightmare was over he could stay safe at home, snuggling into his polyester (not cotton- his allergies don’t agree with cotton) blanket and watching multiple re-runs of ‘Here’s Lucy’ what a great life, even if it was a bit tedious with flying buckets.