The Kingdom Train
Goodbye. That was the last word I remembered saying before The Train jolted against the tracks and I bashed my head into the window I'd been resting against. I woke, slapping away the stream of drool that linked my mouth and shoulder like a spider web. I had no memory of boarding a train. Or any memory at all it seemed. I spun about in my seat to survey the carriage and found my legs automatically spring up with my feet tucking in against my thighs. I was alone. The carriage looked like it had been ripped straight out of the fifties, clinging to the rails and tearing itself inside out trying to stay there. I looked out the window, but the night was far too dark to see anything but my own reflection, so I pushed my back into it and looked inward. The seats next to me were ripped across the backs and the whole train seemed dilapidated. The seats were dressed in faded red cloth that matched the walls. Dim green lampshade hovered over 40 watt bulbs that wer