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The Journey.

Sitting a few seats in front of me was a man that I had sometimes seen going into town. The man never spoke got up from his seat and went to the back of the bus. He left the bus and I watched him walking along the street. His step was sprightly and I could see that he was still a young man. His dress was rather conservative and I thought that he worked in a bank. One day I went to the garage to tank up my car. I was surprised to see the young man from the bus now dressed in overalls attending the petrol pumps. He greeted me and I asked him to fill the tank full as I was going on a long journey. I waited for the man to finish filling my car and went to pay him for petrol. Taking my money he rang the till and put the money away. Giving me the change he wished me a pleasant journey. I thanked the man and thought I heard him say, “This is one journey that you will not forget in a hurry.”

Driving home I had already packed my suitcases and I took them and placed them in the boot of the car. Making sure that I had cut off the water supply and that nothing electric had been left switched on I closed and locked my doors making sure that the windows were secure. Leaving my house I got into the car started the engine and pulled off onto the main road. I had not made up my mind where to go but I often take a drive off into the blue. Suddenly the car took on a life of its own I found myself flying above the main road high above the other traffic. I swept past lorries, busses and cars. I noticed in front of me a motorbike it too was flying above the traffic. For some reason I had taken my foot off the accelerator and the car was still purring along. It was I must admit very comfortable to be driving or should I say flying in this way. No bumpy roads no potholes or outbreaks of frosty patches jus a smooth gliding along above all of the other traffic.

The motorbike slowed down and I caught up with him. He motioned me to open the car window. I opened the window and he spoke, “Good flying weather today Mr. Shaw.” Now how does he know my name was my next thought and why are we flying and not driving along the road? The motorbike rider smiled and pushed his goggles high above his crash helmet. It was the young man again from the bus and the garage where I had filled my car up with petrol. Grinning all over his face he suggested that we play follow my leader.  Dropping his goggles back down over his eyes he pulled away from me. My car followed him I had no say in the matter. Faster and faster the traffic below us was now a blur. I looked at my car’s speedometer. The needle was well over the two hundred miles an hour mark and I still did not have my foot on the gas pedal. The thick fog came suddenly I was caught by surprise. The car did not slow down but fascinated I watched the speedometer the needle was pushed hard onto the limit.

I now looked at my watch not a minute had gone by. I was according to my watch still at home. This could not be I must have travelled a couple of hundred miles the needle of my speedometer was still pressed tight against the limit. The heavy mist cleared away and my car with me sitting comfortably in it slowed down. I watched the needle of the speedometer as it dropped back into its starting position. The car stopped in front of me the motorbike had stopped. I felt a weird sensation going right through my body. Opening my eyes I was sitting under the old oak tree in front of me the young man still with his goggles and crash helmet. The change from the young man into Her Majesty the Fairy Queen somehow did not surprise me. Her Majesty spoke, “Well Mr. Shaw did you enjoy your day out in your motor car. I myself had a great thrill riding that motorbike we must do it again sometime soon. Her Majesty Vanished and I rushed home to write this little story down on my computer. I had no story to tell today I could not think of anything it was Her Majesty that really gave me this story to tell you all. Bern