“I didn’t have this much stuff when I came”, she said, forcing even more down into the space.
“I could do with another case.”
“You rang, Madam.”
“Oh good, here you go.” she said putting some of her belongings into the saddle bag of the camel that had just appeared in her room.
Later, seated on the train – she in the window seat camel in the isle, the cloak of night had settled and lights sparkled as they passed.
“Mum, there’s a camel over there.”
“Don’t point Dear. It’s rude.”
Everyone else had noticed the camel but being very politely English had pretended they had not.
No one else said anything more until the Ticket Inspector arrived.
“Tickets please. Camel’s ticket?”
“It’s not a camel, it’s luggage.”
“It’s in a seat”, he said.
She put the camel on the table. It was a really tight squeeze. So tight in fact that the camel trumpeted a resplendently loud fart.
(No one noticed that either.)
“Thank you Miss.” Said the Ticket Inspector.
“Tickets please,” he called as he moved on.
At the station, a surge of feet to meet and greet, there was Dad.
“I’ll help you with these princess”, he said reaching down.
She looked around. The camel had unappeared
They hurried on into the night.
Sometimes in life we just need a little help along the way.
Curled up under there she could see
A yellow line of light showing
Just under the door.
She hugged her cushion close
Brining her knees up even more ,
Feeling the texture of the carpet.
Her forearm pushed so hard to
Her mouth that it hurt her
Wobbly tooth. She grimaced
Squeezing her eyes and mouth
She pulled the cushion hard
With both arms as if to
Protect it – shields it’s ears.
She didn't see the yellow line
Turn into a triangle as
The door opened.