by Jesse R Traynham - Author

Likes: 6
Words: 200

Jenny squirmed in her seat. “We’re never going to get there. It’s been hours now.”

“We’ve still got a ways to go, kiddo. Why don’t you look out the window at the pretty landscape? Ever seen stars so bright?” Stanley understood. It was boring for his nine-year-old daughter, but starting over wasn’t supposed to be easy.

Jenny pressed her nose against the window.

“Tickets, please. We’re just checking destinations,” the conductor said.

Janice dug around in her purse and handed him their tickets.

“You folks are in for a long ride.”

“Yessir, way out in Phase 97.”

“Everything looks fine, folks. Welcome to the wild frontier.” The conductor smiled and complimented Brian’s outfit. “I like your cowboy hat and boots, young man! You’ll fit right in.”

“Thank you, sir.”

The conductor continued on, calling for tickets.

Jenny looked to the stars and eventually gave in to sleep.

“Wake up, honey, we’re finally here.”

Jenny stepped off the electro-mag train into the space dome. She peeked upward and smiled at the beautiful Earthrise.

“Will we ever get to go back, Dad?”

“I don’t know, honey, maybe someday. They have a lot of work to do before it’s restored.”

by Willow D Fox

Likes: 5
Words: 188

The train rattled through a forest no map remembered. Four passengers sat in silence, each guarding secrets heavier than their luggage.

An old sea captain clutched a tarnished compass that pointed nowhere. Across from him, a young girl hugged a wooden fox missing one ear. Beside her, a woman in mourning wore black gloves despite the summer heat. The final passenger, a ticket inspector, carried no tickets at all.

Outside, stations appeared and vanished before anyone could read their names.

“Next stop?” the girl whispered.

The inspector smiled sadly. “That depends on what you’re ready to leave behind.”

The captain stood first. His compass finally spun north. He stepped onto a deserted platform where crashing waves echoed beyond the mist.

At the next station, the woman removed her gloves, revealing a wedding ring. She smiled through tears and disappeared into golden sunlight.

The girl squeezed the fox. “Will I remember?”

“You’ll remember what matters,” replied the inspector.

When the train reached its final destination, only the inspector remained.

He folded four unused tickets into his pocket, glanced at the empty seats, and quietly whispered, “Until the next journey.”

by Rhea Morrigan, Author

Likes: 5
Words: 200

The rain slicked the windows, turning the world into smears of light. Jackson sat next to her, with his sharp angles and quiet danger, watching like he already owned the ending. A nervous man and a woman who wouldn’t meet anyone’s eyes sat across from them.

She looked around for the conductor.

“Tickets get checked at the end,” he said, his voice low and intimate. His foot brushed hers.

She didn’t pull away. Didn’t want to.

The train plunged into darkness. Hands grabbed, a choked breath, the wet sound of something final. His mouth found hers in the black. Hot, claiming, inevitable.

When the lights returned, the others were gone. Blood streaked the glass, hiding the rain.

She should have recoiled. Instead, she leaned closer. “You knew.”

“I always know,” he said. “Four get on. Fewer get off.”

“And us?”

His smile was slow and dangerous. “We’re what’s left.”

The train began to slow. A platform emerged, empty, waiting. He took her hand, guiding it to his chest, steady and alive.

“Next time,” he murmured, “you choose who disappears.”

Her pulse answered before her conscience could. The doors opened. She felt compelled to stay, his kisses deep in her soul.

by Mary Zuelke Author

Likes: 5
Words: 200

As the conductor collected the tickets, John followed behind taking food and drink orders. There were five passengers.

The last one sat in the far corner, an elderly woman staring out the window. Her dress was like an old costume, faded and a bit dusty.

She must be part of the historical tour, John thought.

Her bleary grey eyes settled on the conductor as her long blue-veined fingers reached into a tiny purse. A shudder passed through John’s bones.

She turned back to the window without another glance.

John tipped his hat and hurried from the car.

He couldn’t stop watching her each time he passed through. There was something odd about that lady.

At the High Line pass, something was wrong. One passenger was missing, the elderly lady. The restroom was empty. There were no other exits or entrances. He swallowed hard.

“Sir.” The conductor turned his way.

“One of my passengers is missing.”

“Impossible.”

“There were five when we started and now there are only four.”

He looked through the presidential car tickets.

“What’s this?” He held a brittle, faded ticket, dated July 13, 1904.

John's jaw dropped, shocked.

“You had four guests, not five.”

He walked away.

by Eolas Pellor

Likes: 4
Words: 200

Mrs Tannebaum was sitting in the window seat, facing her friend Mrs Poltz. She was annoyed that the two men had sat in the aisle seats; normally she and Mrs Plotz would have the seats to themselves, and they could spread out a little, and put their handbags on the seats where they were close at hand.

The two men had taken their jackets off like a pair of barbarians, and balanced the sandy-haired man’s briefcase between them. They were playing a two-handed game of pinochle, the cards flying down quickly, and the tricks scooped up under Mrs Poltz’s disapproving eye – she had no time for the devil’s picturebook.

Mrs Tannenbaum was a little more worldly, and she saw the sandy-haired man was cheating – he’d dealt himself 13 cards – but so was his younger, brunette companion who had palmed an Ace worth 11 points from one of the tricks he’d claimed. The game was penny-a-point and such things mattered, but she held her peace; the men were no concern of hers.

The conductor walked by, winking at the two men, even though gambling was strictly forbidden by the railway.

“You two going to the convention? was all he said.

by Kathy Goddard writer

Likes: 1
Words: 200

There was four of us left without seats. I looked down so they couldn’t tell I was snivellin’.

‘Don’t worry, mate. You’ll be alright, won’t ‘e lads?’

It was the tallest boy wot spoke. Billy, ‘is name was. I’m glad he told me, I can’t read wot’s written on the card pinned to his coat. George and Alfred muttered their names, so I did too.

‘Pete.’

‘Sorry chaps, it looks like you’ll have to sit in the corridor. The carriages are full.

Don’t worry, miss. I’ll look after ‘em.’

‘Thank you William. I’ll check on you soon.

We all stumbled when the train lurched from the station. It was no good looking for mum - she’d stayed ‘ome with the baby. Couldn’t face saying goodbye. We heard other children cheering and singing like we was being sent on an adventure. Like we wanted to go.

We sat on our cases, knobbly knees up by our ears, clutching the boxes with our gas masks lurking inside - the beasts waiting to attack your face.

Billy, George, Alf and me shook hands and made a pact. When ‘Itler was beaten and we were allowed back to London we’d meet up and share our stories.

by Dan J Roberts - Author

Likes: 1
Words: 200

Dave awoke in a confusion.

That haziness that lingers between dreamland and the real world.

The thud from his dream had been real… his phone slipping from his hand and striking the train floor with a crack.

For a moment, he had no idea why he was on the train. Was he heading to work or back home?

Dark outside… No help… It’s dark on both trips this time of year.

He glanced around, checking for drool. None. The train was empty except for three men at the other end of the car and himself.

The automated voice announced their arrival at Damen Street.

Crap. He had missed his stop.

Dave snatched up his phone and backpack and hurried through the doors. The cold night greeted him, along with a walk now three blocks longer.

Slightly embarrassed, he looked back to see whether the men had noticed his debacle.

They were gone.

The train pulled away, its brightly lit car completely empty.

“What…” Dave mouthed, still trying to gather his senses.

He looked around the platform.

Nothing moved anywhere.

He checked his phone.

The screen was cracked and only half-lit.

The last message was clearly visible.

STAY ON THE TRAIN !