Minature Trains, The Lost Bed, and Friends

My next door neighbour, Carl, who I would describe as a roly-poly Einsteinian type of figure, has an extreme fondness for miniature trains. Indeed, every time I see him he is wearing a stationmaster's uniform. His wife, Prudence, seems wise and compassionate - she left him six years ago to live with a cross-eyed elephant hunter, whom I believe, up until now, has captured a terrier, a squirrel, and a worm masquerading as a tiger.

Anyway, the annoying fact about the miniature train is that it comes down our chimney breast every hour - on the hour - and the sound of the train, and its damned whistle, are unbearable. Furthermore, having at least ten people standing in our living room (whom my wife and I have never met before), asking when the next train is due, is impacting on what little is left of our sanity.

A heist today had all the hallmarks of the "Pickled Shark" Gang. The theft of Tracey Emin's bed from "The Saatchi Gallery" was obviously carried out by people beyond redemption. In short; deranged. This morning, a cleaner - while taking her tea break - fell on the floor. She normally used the bed to sit on and relax. To her horror, however, the bed had been replaced by an unmade chair.

The police were immediately on the scene, and after three hours of thorough investigation, concluded the bed had indeed been stolen, and by madmen, or madwomen in drag. The UK's borders were completely sealed with duct tape, and all vehicles, trains, and ships searched in a bid to apprehend the lunatics; sorry thieves. The police eventually pulled in a hamster for questioning. According to police reports, it pleaded guilty to the crime, stating it was presently unemployed, and needed somewhere to sleep. A sad case, indeed.

Some people seem to possess qualities of character, and a personality which others' - no matter how long they live -will never possess. Even when you feel bad-tempered, depressed, angry, the value of an authentic friend is invaluable. However, if you're looking for a friend without faults, you'll end up with none. Sometimes its hard to tell the wheat from the chaff? Just don't wait too long to find out which category some of your friend's are in - they'll use, and abuse you, and move on to the next sucker.

Reflections: Memories do not take us into the past. They bring the past into the present - our memories change as we change.