January Whimsy

A burble of water from far beneath my feet, trapped under the iron drain cover…

A grinning demon with a black cloak billowing out behind him, flying towards me on a bicycle, with a rather too sensible helmet…

The whisper of the dead leaves chasing me along the hedgerow, murmuring secrets…

The roar of a lorry trapped behind bars, lights biting eagerly at the metal, the gates rattling before it as it waits to be free…

The smoke from the chimney bleeding into the clouds overhead, firing them into grey and orange and black…

The cracked pavement waiting to trip me, snapping at my ankles as I step over it…

The lights on the rails, hinting at the giant shooting down the tracks towards me, bringing the physical blow of the air and the rumble of the thunder as it flies onwards…

And the smiling house, the path lit with dots of white and the porch shining as it greets me.