YesBut count on me - Part 3

Continued from yesterday.

Bart was the first winner of YesBut’s Images Caption of the Week Award with his caption for the photo posted on the 19th June 2007:

“84 squares, 85 square, 86 squares, orange and green blockades . . . ? Oh crap, now I‘ve lost count . . . 1 square, 2 squares . . .”

This story is dedicated to Bart, (continued from yesterday):

That evening I cleared my desk, locked up everything in the desk draws. Double checked that the draws were locked. Went to the elevator, went back to my desk to ensure it was properly cleared and all the desk draws were closed. I checked and double checked the PC was switched off and the electrical supply disconnected. Happy I returned to the elevator and as I entered repeated “please God, touch wood may the elevator work properly”. But before the doors closed I knew there was something wrong with the elevator, so I got out and waited for another. But before taking the elevator I had to go back and check my desk was properly cleared. Finally I left the office.

As I walked to the underground station I was thinking: why should I see a councillor? Suddenly I realised I wasn’t thinking “please God, touch wood may I walk safely to the underground station”. I froze in my tracks. Going forward would surely spell disaster. I had to retrace my track. But how far? To go back too far would be disastrous. I had to be careful and count my steps.

“1,2, 3, . . 20, 21,**,**, . . .**,**,, ?, ?, oh crap, now I‘ve lost count ”.

What should I do? Go forward to the unknown and disaster, or back to certain death. I looked around me and noticed I was standing at the junction of a side-street. Should I cross back across the street? At that point the hands of the clock seemed to slow down everything was happening in slow motion. The child on the other pavement dropping his ball, it bouncing onto the road, the child twisting his had free from his mothers grip and rushing after the ball. There was no time for me to think, or pray for Gods help as I stepped off the pavement to save the child. Then there was a piercing screeching sound of motor cycle brakes - something I instantaneously remembered I had heard before.