Classifying my Writing & "Heart to Heart" A 500 word story (Draft)

Anthrolocomotive

Hello everyone. It's been somewhat chill this past week. I'm mostly working on keeping up with college assignments and trying to write some professional articles (I'll discuss this in a later blog post). I want to focus today on classifying one kind of my writing. 

As I said in All the W's, I write about talking locomotives, in a Thomas-esque style. I was talking to my Classmate CC about this. I explained to them how I struggled to explain my genre. Anthropomorphic Machines doesn't sound like a good genre title, does it? 

Well, I think I now have a definition. Anthrolocomotive: Writing that includes sentient machines, mostly locomotives, such as Thomas & Friends and Chugginton, but it can also be cars (such as Disney Pixar's Cars), or Tugs such as Theodore Tugboat or Tugs. The machines do not need to have faces, so series such as Galaxy Express 999 would also count. I chose Anthrolocomotive because it is mostly steam locomotives. 

Well, how's that for a new word? So there's that. Now, onto the short story. (C) Patrick Webb. 

Heart to Heart

This' a draft of a short story I'm writing for my school's writing contest of a Broadside or 500 word story. In this story, Chris Campbell, President of the Kentucky Steam Heritage Corporation, interacts with Nickel Plate Road 587, a 100 year old steam locomotive he helped saved when the museum that owns 587 was evicted, and it was feared a local city would steal it. Enjoy the story. 

Chris Campbell walked through the—nearly empty Ravenna workshop. No one else was in the workshop, except the 100 year old giant.

His old gray eyes turned as Chris walked towards him. He seemed older, as if the past three years had aged him more than a century of life had.

“Evening 587,” Chris said, trying hard not to stare at 587’s boiler on a flatcar, the rest of himself in pieces.

“Hello sir,” 587 replied “Has there been any new word from the ITM? How the move’s going?”

Chris shook his head.

“Shit.”

Chris stared. “I didn’t take you for the swearing kind 587.”

“I apologize sir,” 587 replied, “This whole situation has gone like the Hindenburg.”

Chris chuckled. “Is that a phrase from way back when?”

“No, I just made it up,” 587’s smile quickly faded. “I really need to thank you again for making sure those Wisenheimers didn’t get their grubby meathooks on me.”

“Wisenheimers? Meathooks?”

“Oh, sorry, the smartasses didn’t get their hands on me. 1910’s slang.”

Chris smiled. “You still remember that from all those years ago?”

587 smiled again. “Well, we steam locomotives are like tortoises I suppose.”

“I see, oh yeah, I forgot,” Chris waved a card in his hand, “happy birthday 587.” 587 beamed as Chris left it beside him.

“Thank you, it’s nice to know I haven’t been forgotten. Especially through all this controversy.” 587’s smile faded again. “I can’t believe I’m here. I should be in Noblesville, not Kentucky. Why… why did they drive us out?”

Chris frowned. “I—I don’t know what to tell you 587. Your museum and the local cities just didn’t get along.”

“But to evict us from our home?! Give us a mere two weeks to move, and on top of that steal me?!” 587 puffed his cheeks. Nothing happened. “Oh… um, I forgot, I’m not together, steam would’ve shot from my cylinders if I was… you know.”

Chris nodded.

“Mr. Campbell, be honest with me, what’re my chances of steaming in the 21st Century?”

Chris stared. “Well… my team knows what we’re doing, so I’d say pretty good.”

“When will you start?”

“As soon as your museum gets the funds.”

“Right, well, I suppose that won’t be for awhile. They have to relocate everyone to Logansport after all. I hope the others are all right,” 587 scowled, “and that Mayor Ditslear and the rest of his cronies didn’t get any of them.”

“They didn’t get any of them,” Chris reassured him, “you should focus on resting, and getting ready for your overhaul.”

587 sighed. “You’re right. To think, I’ll never pull the State Fair Train again, or see Noblesville. I never thought this could happen.”

“No one did. But, what’s done is done. Just focus on resting, and getting ready for your overhaul.”

“I will, thank you sir.”

“You’re welcome, good night 587.”

“Goodnight.” 587 watched as Chris walked out of the works, locking the door behind him. The works was silent. 587 sighed. “Happy birthday.”

All right, that's all for me in this post. I hope you enjoyed my short story. If you did, please feel feel the copy and past the blog LINK (not the actual story, the link!) on social media. Thank you everyone. See you on the Tramway!