By Chrisopher Bird
The ladders reached up from the rooftops toward the stars. Some of the ladders were silver and others resembled the colour of iron. The ladders wavered and wobbled precariously but nonetheless they appeared to almost reach the shining stars.Below on one of the rooftops a ceremonial band was playing as countless colourful flags fluttered in the midnight breeze. A trumpet blared out proudly as figures awkwardly climbed the ladders. The town mayor was naturally the first on the highest ladder .His black hat almost fell from his bald head as he climbed and the medals on his chest caught the light of the stars. In one hand the mayor appeared to be holding a sausage roll which he nibbled as he ascended to the shimmering heavens. Crumbs fell on to his heroic war medals! (In actual fact the mayor had never served in the military and had purchased the decorative symbols in the town market). Up went the town officials and gentry gradually climbing the unsteady ladders. The “Big plan” had been an element in a political strategy to distract the town’s population from social issues such as inequality and poverty. The stars seemed defenceless. The iron ladders now reached the silver edges of the stars. A workman from the council repairs department nailed the ladders into secure place. The iron nails were hammered steadily into place in the dusty surface of the constellations. A bugle sounded as the overweight town mayor stretched out his left leg and stepped weakly onto a star. The bugle was out of tune and it’s noise scared several crows who were nesting in a nearby chimney. The priest was breathing heavily as he climbed toward the distant sky. He was out of shape (like the mayor). He was weighed down by pockets full of bibles and prayer books. He aimed to convert any aliens from their own intergalactic theological religions. Next came an army general whose moustache shone brightly in the starlight as he approached the stars. He was well prepared for any eventuality. In his khaki jacket pocket beside a loaded revolver was a declaration of war intended for any conceivable alien life form he might encounter. Business men followed behind with marketing strategies and commercial priorities described in large blue notebooks. The public watched from balconies and rooftop gardens. The homeless looked upward from the shadows of street corners and squares. Some elderly people stood on the church steeple using binoculars to better observe the grand officials arrival on the stars. The council had provided tea and biscuits for the town’s occupants which were considerably more popular than the mayor. The moon was non plussed. He looked with open curiosity on the strange exodus. The moon whispered to a nearby star: “Did you invite these twits onto your surface?” The star replied: “No and they are beginning to itch! “Very curious indeed!” commented Mars. Mars believed firmly that creatures should have the courtesy and good manners to remain on their planet of birth. “I hope their ladders can’t reach me!” declared Mars to the moon. The moon became suddenly very anxious. Would the town organise ladders to reach the lunar surface? The pale moon thought deeply to herself. Then the moon hurriedly arranged for a series of large signs to dot its lunar surface. “Closed for Sundays ” read some of the signs while others stated bluntly:
” No parking here!”
