The Parish Clerk

Jöns carefully blotted the ink on the page. He liked to think that he took this type of care with all the entries in the Parish books but this one in particular was special. She married today , praise the lord, his youngest child and only daughter.

Jöns had been late to marry, a relatively old man at the age of thirty five, his chosen bride, a local woman Böel, not that many years younger .  Five children had been born in quick succession  and now all these years later, well, the boys could look after themselves, but it was a relief to know that Anna’s future was secure.

The church had been bursting, not surprising really, given his position in the village. Jöns had been Klockare   (sacristan and clerk) of the parish for many years and as such, he and Böel had stood witness to countless births, deaths and marriages, the comings and goings of a small but busy rural village.

Satisfied that every last detail had been recorded, Jöns hefted the book back onto the shelf above the writing desk, unconscious to the excitement that would be generated, almost two hundred years later, when his direct ancestor would lay her eyes on his beautifully formed script.

Tragedy at the Zoo

Samuel screamed as the giant yellowing paw sliced through the sleeve of his thin work shirt. Instinctively he grasped at the source of the pain, his mind swirling as he encountered too much of nothing, twisted bone and blood, where only seconds ago there had been a fully functioning arm holding the hose.

 “It’s all up with me, I’m gone” Samuel cried out as he collapsed on the pavement just out of reach of the paw that probed again through the cage bars. The bear realising that there was no more fun to be had, retreated at the sound of the running footsteps quickly approaching. Dragging his prize with him he lumbered off to the relative sanctuary of a shady patch near the back wall of the enclosure where he could watch the drama unfolding and enjoy the spoils of the day. A welcome change from the boredom, the relentless heat from concrete and steel, so far from his Arctic home.

Mr Minchin the Zoo director was ambivalent. “Well, he’d been warned. I always said you can’t trust these wild creatures for minute”.

“The hot weather? No that doesn’t bother them, they are always bad tempered and the most treacherous animals in the gardens” he responded to the eager pressman. 

Bundled off to the hospital, Samuel left the Zoo for the last time. Help had arrived quickly but the shock and loss of blood proved too much for his sixty year old body and within the space of a day he joined the ranks of Zoo keepers past. 

Reference:
1920 'ZOO TRAGEDY', Observer (Adelaide, SA : 1905 - 1931), 21 February, p. 39, viewed 23 January, 2016, http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article165671110