Continuing the epic tale of A Blogmas Carol.

If you have been reading in sequence, you will already have visited

Thriftcriminal

Rick O’Shea

Whoopsadaisy

Maxi Cane

Will Knott

Darren Byrne

Rapture Ponies

Chris P Pancake

Darragh Doyle

K8 The Gr8

Lottie

YOU ARE HERE

Someone living

Jo

H

 

What am I?

Where am I?

Everything is dark, and I am surrounded by metal.  There are muffled sounds of laughter and jollity and a faint sound of music.

Suddenly my world [whatever it is] is thrown into chaos as my metal space rises into the air and I am shaken around violently.  There are loud sound of tearing and light floods into my world.

I realise that I am in the cab of a clockwork railway engine, but I am sitting on the roof, as the engine is upside down. I am still being shaken all over the place as the wrapping is removed from whatever I’m in, and I crack my head on a sharp corner.  I am getting annoyed.

I peer out the window, and there is a snotty kid looking at me with a big grin on his face.  I would take an instant dislike to him, but he looks so happy.  He carefully places me on some track, and I bang my head on the controls again.

This is more like it!

The kid sticks a big key in the side of the engine, and winds it up. 

“Come on, Kid!” I yell, “Give it loads!”

I don’t know whether he hears me or not, but he winds the clockwork to the full, and pulls the key. 

This is my moment.  I always wanted to drive a train, and here I am, on the footplate of a fully wound engine, and ahead of me the track runs off into the distance across the carpet.

I release the brake and open the regulator to its fullest.  With a roar, we head off, under a chair and out the other side.  I can hear people laughing and cheering above the roar of the wind in my ears.  This is great.

As I rattle under the dining table, I suddenly realist that the stupid little prat has put a sharp bend in the line.  It’s too late to brake so I just hope for the best.  Sure enough, the bend is too sharp and I take to the air. 

Luckily, the dog is having a quiet nap near the track, and we land squarely on his stomach.  It is a nice soft landing but the dog isn’t too pleased to have a locomotive land on him.  He retires to the kitchen in a sulk.

The little boy is laughing so much that I actually begin to worry about him.  He shouts in a high voice “This is the best Christmas present EVER!”

I forgive him his rotten engineering, especially as he places the engine back on the track and hooks on a load of carriages.

This time I’m a little more cautious, but soon we are barrelling along the track. 

Once again I feel the exhilaration of speed and revel in the click of the wheels on the track.  I knock a Christmas cracker flying that someone had left lying by the track.  The carriages behind me add to the noise and I open the throttle a bit more.

We go roaring through the doorway out into the hall.

Too late I realise the little bugger has run out of track and there is nowhere to go, except full tilt into the bottom of the stairs.

Ah well!  I always wanted to drive my own train, so as Christmas’ go, it’s a good one.

With a glorious crash, we pile into the step and carriages fly in all directions. 

I am thrown into the air.

I wonder where I’ll land?

 

To be continued