Fighting railway sleeper warriors
05 August 2018
When you can't escape from railway sleepers, either at work or asleep!
Our fragmented army is waiting. There is a kind of numb inevitability to our fate. I feel scared, panicky. Any moment the most fierceome of enemies will arrive. Death is unavoidable. The coming warriors are vast in numbers, ruthless, moving silently with immense speed & strength. They are Dutch. Eight foot six inch in stature. And creosote treated...?!!
The strange thing about nightmares is that they don't really make much sense the day after. Why I should be about to lose my life to a Dutch oak railway sleeper is beyond me. But I was terrified. Our courageous band of Australian Tropical Hardwood and African Azobe railway sleepers would fight to the last, but I knew that we were no match for the mighty Dutch oak. I waited with dread for the moment when they would come swarming over the hills. Knowing without doubt that there was no possible escape. I can't definitely remember what type of railway sleeper I actually was, but I think that I was a grade two hardwood. Possibly Jarrah. And I was doomed.
I woke up with a start. My heart beating. Relieved to be alive. But somehow still expecting the onslaught, even in my attic bedroom. I tried to explain to my partner the impending danger of the swarming Dutch railway sleepers, but received little understanding or sympathy when I woke her up. "You don't understand", I gasped.
Little did she appreciate that I stood bravely between her and oblivion. A lone grade two railway sleeper trying to protect her very existence. Laying myself on the line.
Sometimes in life people don't appreciate the sacrifice you're prepared to make. I may look like a weathered grade two Jarrah on the outside, but inside my heart is Grade one through and through!