In the Ghost Train

The ghost train is a special attraction of the Wurstelprater. As a child I could not quite imagine what awaited me there. It turned out to be spooky. And thus, it came to pass that at the age of eight I boarded the ghost train though I cannot remember who rode with me. But I can recall one thing very well: my companion screamed when a skeleton thrust out its arms towards us. I was fascinated by this creature that attempted to scare us. We also encountered a specter and a mummy on our way through the ghost train. In between we got a glimpse of daylight and waved to the family members who waited for our return. The ride passed in no time at all. I had made it after all and had survived the ghost train ride unscathed!

One night I saw two skeletons sitting at the edge of my bed. For a moment, my heart seemed to stop. Because obviously these two skeletons had escaped the ghost train. They had decided to spend the night at my place. I ran from my room and told my parents what I had had seen. “You had a nightmare”, my mother soothed me. “No, no, no”, I said agitatedly. “The skeletons are certainly still there. I haven’t dreamed it!” My parents accompanied me to my room. “Well, and do you see the skeletons?” I was surprised because they were gone! Simply vanished! I will not have slept well that night.

In the same year I decided to create my first literary character. Bingo the skeleton! This special skeleton was tired of working in a ghost train and decided to take to his heels. He stole away one day and experienced various adventures on his way through the deserted Prater and beyond its borders. All recorded in a small booklet with many pages. Sadly, the notes vanished one day. But meanwhile Bingo, like all literary figures, leads his own life. He is THAT skeleton that wanted to end his dull existence in the Prater ghost train and come to life again.

I have passed by the ghost train ride often after this first adventure. But I only rode it again years later. Somehow, I had respect for what would be awaiting me. The two skeletons less known to me could take offense that I left them to their own devices for so long. I only glanced the two with a short look. Since then, I have never ridden the ghost train again. I like to contemplate it from the outside and imagine what kind of independent existence takes place inside. This inspires my imagination. Am I afraid of skeletons? Not at all. I love skeletons. Well, I know that this is strange. Whenever I see real skeletons, I regard them with deep respect.