The train to destiny
An introduction: Ceci n'est plus une pipe.
Some say it's coincidence, others say it 's fate. The lifes we lead, the people we betray, the love we give, the apathy we fear… The great mysteries and little miracles of life. Unsolved (?) Genesis of the universe? Whodunit? God or E mc2 ? Why do people want to believe in a thing called religion? Does it make them sleep better at night? No, whether you believe in God, Allah, Buddha or Elvis Presley is not the real issue; when you believe, you have got something to hold on to: good times or bad times. Untill –of course- the holy father himself decides that your time to go has come. We were we made of dust and we shall return to dust. That's in theory… in real terms, some creatures (great or small), originating from the hands of our beloved creator , have cruel intentions themselves. Creators of fear, instigators of death, the source of all evil. To prevent all misunderstandings: I am currently not talking about schools, but about people who have the nasty habit of hurting other people, both emotional and physical, till death us do part. Luckily there also is the doctrine of reincarnation (that's quite a comfort), for example I have the honour to prove all of you non-believers that the King is still alive (after all we all like happy endings).
This is a story about a very special, fascinating, (literally) breathtaking, fairy-like, good-tempered girl. This is the story of a girl, the girl with the golden scalpel ( featuring a lot of pneumothoraxes ), a scalpel in the right pocket of her jacket. Normally, this should also be a story ( or at least a parody) about the master of crime-solving, thé Sherlock Holmes, unfortunately I have the following regrettable announcement to make: Sherlock has departed this life and he straightly started his last journey… Killed in action, oh yes it can happen to the very best as well, another one bites the dust… And yet, another prove that smoking is a really nasty, unhealthy habit; especially when you are standing close to a gas leak. Hij was meteen de pijp uit. ( for those who understand Dutch) Do not, I repeat: do not panic; we have found a good, capable and ( most important) stylish replacement. Who you gonna call? No, not 007 problem solving for him means using his license to kill, for us it only means more problems… We are proud to introduce you, the one and only (he isn't cloned yet, but we are slightly considering it) reincarnation of the "Master"….Hercule Poirot. ( just kidding, there goes my credibility). Who you gonna call (but only on workdays from 9am to 5 pm)? After lifes as respectively an earthworm, a butterfly, an Indian elephant and the Easter bunny (also K.I.A.) he is totally back and with plenty of karma: Sherlock Holmes. Doctor Watson –on the contrary- is still missing, the last sign we received from him was an Easter egg with a bullet hole, we'll keep you up to date…
Our story is situated in a small European country, on an international train, on a Thursday afternoon around 6 past 6. Any resemblance to reality or to numbers ascribed to the devil is the work of the Lord of the Flies… or just a twist of fate. After all this story might be an urban legend: it could happen to you ….or to your mother, father, sister, brother, best friend, neighbour, goldfish….Accidents will happen, especially on international trains in insignificant small European countries on Thursday afternoons around six o'clock, when your religious and you are listening to Elvis. Anyone who would try this out in real life – at your own risk- will meet an innocent looking girl, a girl with a mysterious smile and ditto facial expression, who is just waiting till 6 past 6, waiting for the devil inside her, sitting in front of you on the train to your destiny….
To be continued
