“All aboard!” the conductor yelled. Needlessly, since the platform had emptied long ago.
Gone were the days when adventurers and prospectors were fighting over the best places, elbowing their way to the carriage door, then to the window seats. From there they’d be able to spot the rich veins that sprouted from the newly-formed mountains at their destination first. They’d gain an insurmountable advantage over the poor souls condemned to the inner aisles, already plotting to get hold of the treasures the hungry dumb wolves near the window would excavate for them.
Soon the train would stop running altogether. The conductor would be reassigned and the engine sold for scrap metal.
And as it would leave the station, towed to its last berth to be broken up, the glow of the day’s dying sun would give this loyal servant of man’s greed one final, golden hurrah.
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