Night Train
I counted the ticks of the large clock that hung, prevailing, on the looming wall. Fifty. Fifty-one. Each tick made the ground shudder, people’s breaths rid the air of its colour and every surrounding footstep made the rain outside shatter. Fifty-four. Fifty-five. I looked at my feet being lifted by the downcast ground. The grey sea of concrete that lapped beneath my toes made the colours in my brown shoes and red lips swell like a star to Galileo. Where have all the flowers gone? Fifty-seven. Fifty-eight. Finally, the people around me stepped forward, being summoned by the rushing air that smote them, but they embraced it like they were drowning. Sixty. The train slowed to a stop and the doors welcomed us in. Slowly, each individual person swiftly stepped aboard, including my brown shoes and red lips.
“Welcome”, a voice hushed through the tired looking speakers, “to the night train.”
The ground beneath my feet, the movement in my seat – shuddering. Shuddering as though it was lacking the confidence that its passengers would survive the trip. Shuddering as though it was driving itself, uncertain that it could keep on track until the end of the line. Crystal chandeliers that trembled with the train scattered the ceilings in no order at all, making it feel as though upside down candles hung above our heads. People shook with each shudder the train gave, gasped at each wheeze it surrendered. Whenever the train stopped, their feet stuttered and their knuckles became a paler shade as they gripped onto the handle bars like there was a never ending chasm beneath their feet. But still, they never cried or murmured, the silence throughout the train was deafening, all except for the shudder. Shudder. I sat on a soft felt chair, my hands loosely clasped together on my lap almost mocking those with white knuckles, holding onto their lives. My elbows touched that of those next to me. A man whose face was so ordinary, I would immediately forget it as soon as I turned my gaze. He looked like every man in a crowd. Straight faced, dull eyes pointed in front of him as though the world that remained outside these walls ceased to exist once the doors were shut. Shudder. The only thing that made him at least slightly distinguishable was the box he clasped onto, almost as if he was praying that it wouldn’t make a sound. His fingers twitched with each shudder, and his hands clasped on tighter, so much so that a hole in the cardboard was inevitable. The woman whose elbows occupied my right was small and stout, with a head full of curled blonde hair and a face full of pale powder, with black lips painted on far too small to blend into where her real lips would be. Her thin eyebrows jumped with each shudder, and she huffed with the train even though the faint smile stayed curled upon her heavily stained lips. Her hands gripped onto her thighs, with a ring around her thumb which was, quite obviously, far too small to properly fit without having her skin expand around it. Her bright blue clothes smothered her as if to suggest that she wasn’t blue at all.
Shudder. The grips on the handle bars tightened. Shudder. The hands on the box strained. Shudder. The eyebrows on the face danced. Shudder. I sat on a soft felt chair with my hands loosely clasped in my lap, on a train of which nobody would get off until the very end of the line. However, I don’t think even the train knew where that would be. Of all the lines in the world, it had to choose one, and it shuddered while it did so.
“Welcome”, a voice hushed through the tired looking speakers, “to the night train.”
The ground beneath my feet, the movement in my seat – shuddering. Shuddering as though it was lacking the confidence that its passengers would survive the trip. Shuddering as though it was driving itself, uncertain that it could keep on track until the end of the line. Crystal chandeliers that trembled with the train scattered the ceilings in no order at all, making it feel as though upside down candles hung above our heads. People shook with each shudder the train gave, gasped at each wheeze it surrendered. Whenever the train stopped, their feet stuttered and their knuckles became a paler shade as they gripped onto the handle bars like there was a never ending chasm beneath their feet. But still, they never cried or murmured, the silence throughout the train was deafening, all except for the shudder. Shudder. I sat on a soft felt chair, my hands loosely clasped together on my lap almost mocking those with white knuckles, holding onto their lives. My elbows touched that of those next to me. A man whose face was so ordinary, I would immediately forget it as soon as I turned my gaze. He looked like every man in a crowd. Straight faced, dull eyes pointed in front of him as though the world that remained outside these walls ceased to exist once the doors were shut. Shudder. The only thing that made him at least slightly distinguishable was the box he clasped onto, almost as if he was praying that it wouldn’t make a sound. His fingers twitched with each shudder, and his hands clasped on tighter, so much so that a hole in the cardboard was inevitable. The woman whose elbows occupied my right was small and stout, with a head full of curled blonde hair and a face full of pale powder, with black lips painted on far too small to blend into where her real lips would be. Her thin eyebrows jumped with each shudder, and she huffed with the train even though the faint smile stayed curled upon her heavily stained lips. Her hands gripped onto her thighs, with a ring around her thumb which was, quite obviously, far too small to properly fit without having her skin expand around it. Her bright blue clothes smothered her as if to suggest that she wasn’t blue at all.
Shudder. The grips on the handle bars tightened. Shudder. The hands on the box strained. Shudder. The eyebrows on the face danced. Shudder. I sat on a soft felt chair with my hands loosely clasped in my lap, on a train of which nobody would get off until the very end of the line. However, I don’t think even the train knew where that would be. Of all the lines in the world, it had to choose one, and it shuddered while it did so.