Walking away from the past
is that much harder
when your leg’s encased
in a plaster cast.
Walking away from the past
is that much harder
when your leg’s encased
in a plaster cast.
“All aboard the charabanc!”
And she looked at me with surprise
As if I had just turned mad
When she ‘had’ thought me wise.
“The ‘Sharra-what?’ ” she asked, a quizzical expression upon your face.
“A ‘Chara-banc!'” I reiterated,
“A necessity if you wanted to take lots of people all over the place!”
“Wanted?” she asked. “Past Tense, long ago, way before my time; even before yours!”
“Yes, decades ago. Not been in common use for at least half a century.”
“Except in ‘your’ world!” she made her point well.
“Yes, in mine; all manner of old and particularly fine vehicles drive along the old highways in my mind.”
She looked me up and down for a minute.
“But, you always say that ‘Nostalgia’ was a thing of the past.”
“I do; but, it’s also kept in the present by people like me-”
“Weirdos!” she interjected.
“…people like me, who want to keep our history alive.”
“And relevant?” a little dig of a question – with a suggestion of mocking.
“Yes! It’s shocking, you know, that there are so few charabancs left to show.” I thought a moment. “Would you like to see one – it will be such fun!”
“In cave paintings?” Or on papyrus scrolls? I’d rather drive in a Rolls.” Her mischievous way was shining brightly today.
“No. I know where there is one. Not a million miles from here!”
“Obviously. Nowhere on the surface of this planet is anywhere ‘near’ a million miles from here.”
Sometimes she was just ‘too’ literal.
“Even better – let’s go and see a real, live char-a-banc!”
“Yes, let’s; I could do with a dose of old-fashioned nostalgia!”
Her wit and wisdom was why I loved her so. She was the best assistant a doctor could have.
We entered the Tardis; and the rest, as they say, is history…
… or the future…
Posted in Charabanc, Holidays, Nostalgia
Tagged #Charabanc, #Nostalgia, #prose, Dialogue, Poetry