the lost pages of the traveller’s christmas journal (part 10)
Great Britain
Not a quiet moment goes by in Great Britain in the lead up to Christmas; it’s a day the people are rushing as if their lives depended on it and during the night, not a soul in sight. Perfectly calm, no wind, empty park benches and owls lurking on top of red telephone boxes.
It’s during the night that interested me; I didn’t care much for the day as it was too busy for my liking so I often slept in.
The preparation for Christmas was obviously set for when the Sun was high in the sky, and when the Moon made a show, it seems it was a lingering sadness when no one was in slight.
An old man searching for food in trash bins was wandering nearby, he said, “Strange black cars follow people during the night and they park to ambush their victims.”
“How did you know what I was thinking?” I said with a rather baffed look on my face.
“It’s written all over your face. You’re not from these lands; you’re foreign which explains why you’re out at night.”
“I’m pretty sure there’s others here not from Great Britain.”
“No. No one comes here anymore other than those who live here.”
“Why?”
“Were you not paying attention? I told you black cars come out at night and ambush their victims.”
“Is this every night, or does it only happens in Christmas?”
“Just during Christmas.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know, I usually stay in the park, no one comes here. I have nowhere to go, so it doesn’t bother me.”
“Oh, alright.”
“You should leave, but stay here for the night; it’s not safe right now.”
With that advice, I stayed with the old man for the duration of the night, I’m not so sure if I can accurately determine if anything he said had any truth. He may be in an altered state suffering from hysteria.
In the morning as I was leaving Great Britain, I saw several black cars pull up near an ally way.
This entry was thrown in the rubbish bin as a precaution. The old man might have been crazy, or maybe he wasn’t.
(to be continued …)
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