Morning all. Running a little behind this morning. Which is kind of amusing. Yesterday I thought I was running late due to a dream but really wasn’t. This morning i woke up feeling like I had all of the time in the world but actually overslept. Fun way to start a Friday I suppose. Nevertheless, let us plow ahead with the last writing prompt of the week. Timers at the ready? Weapons of plot destruction at the ready? Then let’s go.
Huh. That is really not where i thought that would go. I like it. In fact I like it more than any of the other prompts this week. But it was not where i was expecting this to go. Don’t you just love when that happens? Fun stuff indeed.
Friday, January 7th: This was going to be fun.
This was going to be fun. He heard the stories from the others and saw the remembered delight on their faces. He knew that it would be the same for him. When the opportunity arose to go to the Funland Amusement park he snapped it up. After the arrangements were made, he went home and thought through the stories the others told him over the years of their experiences in Funland. He made a list of the highlights.
The specific foods mentioned. The rides that reoccurred again and again in the tales. He noted them down. He would be certain to ride every ride and taste every food. Then when other’s mentioned Funland, he too would be able to get the look of fun remembered nostalgia on his face. He would not have amused and somewhat pitying looks sent his way when he had to ask what Funland was. He would not be the source of amusement when he looked for the small country on a map and asked if he needed a passport to visit.
He knew now that Funland was not its own country and that the only passport he needed was a ticket. He purchased a ticket. Or at least that is what he thought he purchased. It was rather more expensive than he imagined it to be. But those who told him of Funland were from families much wealthier than his own.
But now he would visit. And he would have his own personal guide when he did. Mr. Anderson had arranged everything beautifully. He presented his list and was told that it would happen.
‘Perhaps it is the concierge service that costs extra.’ He thought.
Finally the time to go arrived. He was picked up by the car Mr. Anderson arranged and driven out of the city. Imagining the fun to come and wondering if he would enjoy the attractions as much as the others kept him occupied for the drive. The others reported being small when enjoying Funland.
‘But anticipation should make up for age,’ he decided.
The car glided to a halt and He got out of the vehicle. Mr. Anderson was waiting. He was wearing a hard hat and had another one held in his hand. He wondered if it was required for the rides he requested. The others had not mentioned safety gear.
‘But perhaps regulations have changed,’ he thought.
“We have just enough time to look things over before the dismantling begins,” Mr. Anderson said with a smile. “The workmen are on their way and then they will take down the rides you purchased and move them to the warehouse before demolition begins.”
He blinked as he took the hard hat from the smiling Mr. Anderson. This wasn’t what he expected at all. But he learned his lesson about responding immediately and instead turned to the gates of Funland. They had seen better days. Rusted through with grass growing long and tall through the cracked concrete beneath, it had been a long time since anyone visited.
“I have to say,” Mr. Anderson continued as they began walking towards the gates. “I am thrilled that you are buying up the rides. I had such fun here as a child, I would hate to think of them just tossed away for scrap. Can you believe they are putting an industrial park here?”
Ten til Midnight 