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A short bedtime story. That is strange, I have not had to queue since the world war two; I wonder what they are selling? Ah! There are two queues the one that I am standing in and one that is a little to the right of me. Strange sort of a queue though no one is speaking; every one waiting patiently as the line of people slowly move forward. Both of the queues move somehow together as if they are being controlled like marionettes or puppets; men and women, it makes no difference, they slowly move along. They must be selling something good; we seem to be moving a little faster now the two queues keeping pace with one another, step by step we move along in the line. We are approaching a barrier, I cannot see what is on the other side, it will be my turn soon. Only another four people in front of me and then I will be through the barrier. I look to the left and the right of me strange I can see no faces, what does it all mean? I am now at the barrier, good God, this cannot be true! This is a human slaughter- house, the left barrier are the slaughterers and the right those to be slaughtered. I have got to get out of here quick; if I have to die then not like this. I turn and try to push my way back to the other side of the barrier. The people push me back I just cannot get through they will not let me through, they think that it is one big joke. I am trying to fight my way through them. Punching and kicking to make myself a passage, but to no avail I cannot get through, I am too tired! With my last strength I wake up it was just a bad dream. I am covered in sweat, my heart is pumping but I am awake. OR am I? [log in to unmask] http://members.chello.at/bernard.shaw/poetry.html http://www.postpoems.com/members/bern/