There had never been a railway line here; but then there had never been a forest either.
Her birthday had promised enchantment from the outset. Rosy fingers had crept surreptitiously along the horizon as she’d toddled outdoors, patting aside the pastel-coloured balloons with which her family had festooned the rambling garden in readiness.
For a short while the day had sustained its promise.
But now she wanted breakfast, her birthday cake, her sisters, her kitten.
Yet clickety-clack echoed ever closer, a mournful whistle postulating some other outcome.
And the garden pond sang softly…
Come closer, birthday girl.
I had two endings for this, one anodyne and the other… was the one I opted for. Thanks to Rochelle for her continued leadership of Friday Fictioneers – sorry to have missed last week – I sent a note. 🙂