Home > Royer's Madcap Experiences > Royer’s Madcap Experiences: The Haunted Bridge Abutment

Royer’s Madcap Experiences: The Haunted Bridge Abutment

December 21, 2014 Leave a comment Go to comments
By Ric Royer

By Ric Royer

I saw the catalogue sticking out of his bag before he saw me.

“Hey! Asshole! Bring me that catalogue!”

He looked up. He was trying to do the house next door first.

“You do that house first and I’ll shoot you dead, God as my witness”. I was bluffing but he didn’t know that. He walked over slowly.

“I’m a federal employee,” he said, handing me the catalogue along with a batch of other letters that I immediately dropped into some hedges. “I’ll have you arrested.”

“I’ll burn your truck to the ground,” I countered. “Then what will you do?”

He said something but I missed it. I was staring too hard at the catalogue.

Back inside, I immediately opened the catalogue and the laptop and began ordering items in a blind, indiscriminate fashion. About 100 trains, all different gauges, some structures, a huge ferris wheel, some track nails, tons of figures– “Man with pants”, “Cougars and Cubs”, “Hot Dog Wagon”, “Toilet Scene”, they had everything.

In the comments section, below my order, I wrote: FUCK YOU PEOPLE! as I always did.

Three days later, the order arrived in six separate tremendous boxes. The postman shot me a disgruntled look. I kicked him hard in the ass as he walked away. “I’m a federal employee,” he said again.

“I’VE GOT TRAINS!” I screamed. I began crying and removed my shirt. “DISAPPEAR! FOREVER!”

Just as he was climbing into his truck, I crept up behind him and whispered, “You’re inhuman“. He didn’t care for that at all. Then, I dragged the boxes into the basement and began tearing them apart in a slipshod, desultory manner.

I came to the box labeled SCENERY. I screamed for no reason at all as I tossed aside utility poles, bendable armatures, potted flowers and fuel tanks that I could not possibly hope to find a use for. And then I came to the bridge abutment.

It was packaged in ordinary factory shrink wrap. I fingered it delicately. And, in return, I received an awareness of some grim, unmentionable horror. I knew right away that the bridge abutment was haunted.

And I have never truly recovered.

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