He found it odd that at that particular moment in time and inside his head the song: “The wheels on the bus go round and round’, kept up a merry ditty as he surveyed all around him.
That was it, there was nothing going round and round save for the song in his head with seemed to be going in ever diminishing circles.
Around him life had come to a standstill. It was the oddest thing. It was Friday morning; he had checked before coming out and was surprised by the lack of anything happening.
His neighbours Mr Diddums and Mrs Daddums were, as always at each other’s fence chatting or more often than not gossiping but today they were just standing there. It was then he noticed they were frozen. They were the most animated of people and he knew they would be disappointed to know they had come to this.
Down the street where he expected to hear the sounds of the milkman and the newsagent singing out the mornings headlines there was silence. The wheels on the milk cart were stopped, the newsagent was standing there, arm extended as if making an earth shattering proclamation.
“How come I have been left out?” he wondered as the song in his head was beginning to make less and less noise.
Just then he heard a noise. From across the street Angus Anglegrinder could be heard uttering his usual mouthful of expletives followed by a loud crash, a puff of smoke and a sigh of relief.
Angus rushed out and saw his neighbour from across the street, uttered more expletives and then apologised. In his hand he held a small black device he was fiddling with.
“Sorry it’s all gone haywire,” he announced, “should have it adjusted in a jiffy.”
With that he pressed a button on his device and the wheels did start turning. Everything was back to normal and no one apart from the two men watching knew anything had happened.
Angus then turned to his neighbour and looked puzzled at him.
“How come you were not affected?” he asked looking again at his device.
“I’ve no idea,” he replied, “I’m as perplexed as you.”
“You are human?” asked Angus.
“Hmm,” giggled the man, “some do question that.”
“I’m a deity,” said Angus, “trying desperately to get away from the terrible place. Nothing is working and no one up there or down there for that matter, gives a damn about me.”
Angus was looking a shade crest fallen as he made his way back across the street muttering to himself about the lack of true technology he had access to.
The man looked about him and saw that all was well once again and glad that he didn’t have to interfere in things not of the earth, as the humans were a fickle lot and the less explanation for anything the better they seemed to cope.
Inside his head the wheels on the bus were content and turning as they should and the tune “I’m a little teapot” reminded him it was time for morning tea.