Bob still couldn’t believe that underground train network was closed down as he started to turn off the lights. It had only been open a few years but its’ popularity hadn’t been able to save it when the business and economy had gone bust. Still he’d somehow held on to his cushy night watchman’s job, even if all he was guarding now were empty stations and tracks.
The abandoned farm house stood on the hill under the starry sky. At first glance it seemed like a welcoming place for a weary traveler but on the second look it really wasn’t. The house creaked and groaned with the trapped souls of the dead.
It was all riding on this final match, everything he had worked for was about to pay off. All he had to do was hit the ball right to win the game then his dreams would come true. He arched his arm back and got ready.
It was just another day, another job as he pulled up next to the wall of graffiti. Getting out of the car, he looked at the brightly coloured imagines of teddy bears. His shoulders dropped and he knew he was going to be able to bring himself to wash them away.
He had been saying the number repeatedly in German on his death bed but no one knew what it meant. Then it didn’t matter anymore as everyone was too busy mourning. So, it wasn’t until years later that we found out that the number was actually a train that his parents had forced him on to save him from the concentration camp.
Wheel had been watching over the city since the terrorist attack of 2038. Everyone believed it was for their own safety because that was the lie they had been feed. I though, knew something more sinister lay underneath and I was determined to find out what it was.
I passed the strange door everyday but I never knew what was behind it. I imagined all kind of things behind the blue wood; a collection of cars, a forgotten back door to a house, someone’s workshop or maybe nothing at all. Of course, with the big holes at the top I could have tried to look through and see, but that would have ruined my daily daydream.
She’d been asking and asking for her own pony till we’d finally given in. The problem was that the animal shelter didn’t let you adopt anything mid-December through till early January as they knew the pet was likely going to be a present. So, we had to get the pony now and with no where really to hide him, we celebrated Christmas early.
Mist danced in the rising sun which fell in-between the tall trees. The land was quiet, expect for the low movements of cattle and horses. The cowboys tried after their drunken late night and rough sleep, dozed on and off, missing the glory that was around them.