This is an example of my writing


Ernie the long-legged train-spotter

Ernie the long legged train spotter was not a happy person. He had just been banned from his fifth train-spotting club in one week.

“I’m sorry, but your long legs just make the entire club derail,” said engine enthusiast Edgar.

“You just aren’t short enough for this first-class establishment,” complained locomotive lover Lawrence.

“Your long legs have been making us go off-track ever since you joined,” professed railroad researcher Rodney.

Ernie was grumbling quite miserably as he trudged sullenly down the street. It was a cold and wet day, and most people were staying inside. The few people who ventured out kept their distance from Ernie, giving him looks of blatant disgust and not even trying to be subtle. They were so abhorrent of Ernie, one woman even got ran over trying to cross the street to get away from him.

He sighed grumpily, and looked down at his knees in shame. They were quite a way away. You see, Ernie was cursed with incredibly long legs. He had had them since birth. When he popped out, his father’s first reaction had been to exclaim: “My, it’s a little long, isn’t it?”

As he’d gone through kindergarten and primary school, he had been plagued by horrible nicknames and cruel taunts, such as ‘Daddy longlegs’, ‘Ernie Lengthylimbs’, and ‘Your mum.’ Ernie had never really understood that last one.

And so it was, that poor Ernie with his abnormally large legs, was forced to endure ridicule and humiliation wherever he went. Little children and old ugly women would point at him at laugh, even though he was now in the latter half of seventeen.
“I wish I was dead, nobody likes me,” Ernie grumbled sadly. He was nearly home now, where his mother (who was incidentally a dwarf), would likely have dinner ready by now.

“It’s not fair, everyone else gets to have normal legs, why don’t I? My life stinks. Life stinks.”

To Ernie’s credit, it was not his fault that the bald patch on the top of his head as a result of scraping against ceilings was exactly in the shape of a tortoise, and how was he to know that the large bird hovering up ahead had a particular taste for them? Still, that did little to ease his mind as the rapidly descending jagged rock made a mural of his brains on the road.


“Where am I?”

“You’re in Heaven, Ernie.”

“Why am I in Heaven? Did I die?”

“Oh yes Ernie, by the time that bird was through with you, you could’ve been mistaken for a lump of mince. In fact, you were mistaken for a lump of mince. Gave a homeless man food poisoning.”

“But how could I be dead?”

“Well, you see, you’re dead when you’re not alive anymore.”

“I know that, but why am I dead?”

“Because your scalp looks like a tortoise.”

“Oh. That’s unfortunate. Who are you anyway? Why can’t I see anything?”

“Oh, I’m just the doorman. I’m here to show you what the world would’ve been like without you in it. Many people underestimate the positive effects they have on the people and places around them.”

“Positive? Everybody hated me.”

“Now now, that’s not true.”

“Yes it is.”

“-Sigh-… Very well, I will prove to you that your life was not as wasted as you think.”

...

“Where are we?”

“You should know Ernie, you spent most of your childhood here.”

“What, this is my school?”

“This is your school as it would have been had you never been born.”

“But it’s so… clean. It looks like it’s had a total makeover.”

“It does?”

“Yeah. That’d probably be because I didn’t accidentally give the janitor brain damage when I dropped my pencil.”

“Your pencil gave the janitor brain damage?”

“Anything will give you brain damage if it hits you from that height.”

“Okaay… Shall we move on?”

...

“Where are we now?”

“This is your house, Ernie.”

“My house? It’s been painted. It looks so cheerful. And the honeysuckle bush outside the front door is still in one piece.”

“Who’s that, Ernie?”

“Oh my God… Is that MUM?”

“Yes.”

“She’s… She’s smiling. Mum doesn’t smile!”

“Yes, she got remarried and had three lovely children. None of which are you. Doesn’t she look so much sadder without-“

“She looks so happy! She’s WHISTLING!”

“She may look happy, but inside-“

“She looks 30 years younger!”

“SHALL WE MOVE ON?”

...

“This is the town centre. Does it look different to you?”

“Well yeah, it’s sunny, for a start. That’d be because my head wasn’t there to agitate every passing raincloud.”

“Weather notwithstanding, doesn’t it seem like an unpleasant place to live?

“No, everyone looks happy, and they’re all out and about and wearing top-hats. Every hat I ever wore froze in the upper atmosphere.”

“Aside from the top-hats? Isn’t it loud and noisy and bustling? Surely you were doing them a favour by scaring them off the streets with your long legs?”

"No. It’s merry. That busker there is playing steel-drums. I love steel-drums. They give a lovely atmosphere to a place.”

“I give up!”

...

“Are we back in Heaven again?”

“Yes. Your life wasn’t all that bad you know. You had friends, a loving family, food to eat…”

“No I didn’t. I was constantly picked on, my family have tried to kill me about fifty-seven times in the last month alone, and we were constantly hungry.”

“Oh… Wait, you are Ernie Ernes, right?”

“No, I’m Ernie Ernest.”

“Ah, that’d be the problem. Damn small printing, you can never tell the diff- Just a second, let me… find the right… damn I need to tidy this hellhole up a little- Ah, here we are. Ernie Ernest. Oh yes, your life totally sucked.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah, it says right here that it was terrible.”

“Does that mean I can go back now?”

“No, you’re dead.”

“What, so this whole thing wasn’t just planned so you could ‘show me the error of my ways’ or whatever?”

“No, you are well and truly dead.”

“Oh. Well that sucks.”