Davide la Locomotive

The park had swings, slides, and zipline — but no roundabout. That was enough to unravel everything.

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Dunwell recently unveiled their new park: swings, slides, zipline, a musical tunnel that plays disco, and even a badger-friendly picnic bench.

At the next town hall, the fox raised his paw.

“Where’s the roundabout?”

“We didn’t add one,” said the turtle. “It wasn’t in the plans we agreed.”

“Well,” said the fox sharply, “then the plan was wrong. How can you have a park with no roundabout?”

“At the last town hall, we reviewed the plan together. Were you there?”

“I thought the roundabout was implied. Young hedgehogs love roundabouts. They’ll try to spin on the swings instead. They will fall and break a paw. An entire generation of hedgehogs will suffer. Is that what you want?”

“There is safety matting. Let’s chat after,” said the turtle. “Others have questions.”

The snail quietly reached out, picked up a ginger nut biscuit. She took a small, deliberate bite.

The turtle pointed to a badger near the back.

“Thanks,” said the badger. “Is there ramp access for wheelchairs?”

“Yes, by the orchard—”

“But there’s no ramp to the roundabout,” said the fox.

The turtle blinked. “There is no roundabout.”

“Exactly,” said the fox. “The park is a barren wasteland. The kids will have nothing to do. They will find other vices. They’ll turn to a life of crime and violence…”

The fox then stood up, now speaking loudly and with great grandiosity:
“The crops will fail. Animals will starve. Society will break down. Chaos. Anarchy. Apocalypse…”
Then, almost shouting: “Which I guess is what you want!” before sitting back down.

The animals all sat in stunned silence.
The snail took another bite from the ginger nut biscuit, slowly, letting the crunch fill the space where no one dared speak.

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Later, as the animals were packing up chairs, the snail leaned in.

“So… what are we doing about the roundabout?”

The turtle tapped his scroll.

“I said we’d do it… next time we work on the park.”

The turtle wandered off.

The snail sat for a moment, then blinked slowly.
“But, we’re not planning to work on the park again,” she murmured.

A ginger nut biscuit slipped from the table and rolled across the floor, spiralling in on itself, each loop smaller than the last, until finally it stopped.

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