PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook
“Oh bugger!” said the Fat Controller watching as Frank steamed away in the wrong direction, puffing with discontented malaise.
“Tut tut”, said the mother dragging her son down the platform while he craned around trying to see the smoke coming out of the Fat Controller’s ears.
The Fat Controller glared at her – a glare that spoke volumes.
“Really!” thought the Fat Controller, “I don’t know why I bother trying to reason with bloody stupid, sentient engines. Whoever thought of anthropomorphising trains should be tied down to the railroad tracks and run over. I’m done. I’m going down to the pub.”