242. All aboard!

“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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137. Good morning, ladies and gentlemen, you are on the train to…

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen, you are on the train to…”

There was a pause. The train conductor for the love of God could not remember the destination. He made another attempt.

“This is the train to…”

But again, no destination. In the carriages the passengers were starting to chuckle.

Amsterdam, Brussels, Paris, London, Berlin, Cologne, Vienna. None of them sounded right. Looking out of the window didn’t help either, as the train was surrounded by a dense fog that veiled the surrounding landscapes.

“Well,” the conductor finally said. “We’ll just see where our journey takes us, shall we?”

Train 4523 was never heard of again. It just… disappeared.

Some say it now roams the Earth, perpetually shrouded in mist, without ever stopping, chugging merrily along, its plight uncertain till the conductor recalls its final destination.

I for one hope he never does.

Because what better destination is there than our own imagination?

 

Did you enjoy this story? Then why not try the 101 stories in 300 words or less in YOU’RE GETTING SLEEPY, THE HYPNOTIST’S APPRENTICE YAWNED.

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132. The rabbit’s stare

The rabbit’s stare bordered on the demonic. The creature may have been all white and fluffy but the blackness of its eyes told a different story altogether.

What the rabbit was doing on the train seat opposite me was unclear. It had appeared quite suddenly, somewhere in the ten or so seconds between me glancing at the still empty seat, delving into the boring book on my lap and looking up again.

I tried approaching the rabbit, gently, as not to startle it. But barely had I moved or two elfin hands picked it up.

“Mr. Snuffles didn’t  bother you, did he?” the girl asked. She was as elfin as her hands yet the polar opposite of her bunny with her wild black hair and gorgeous eyes that betrayed a genuine sweetness.

“No,” I stuttered. “Though he was a bit… odd.”

“I hadn’t locked him away securely in his cage and before I knew it he got away from me.”

“You should never let someone you love slip through your fingers,” I said.

The girl agreed.

“I should get him back to his cage now,” she said.

“I guess you should,” I replied.

“Or you could just take the seat opposite me,” I continued.

She smiled.

“You weren’t kidding about not letting stuff slip through your fingers, were you?”

I wasn’t.

And judging by the still demonic glance in the rabbit’s eyes, neither was he.

 

Did you enjoy this story? Then why not try the 101 stories in 300 words or less in YOU’RE GETTING SLEEPY, THE HYPNOTIST’S APPRENTICE YAWNED.

Available at the Createspace Store, at amazon.com, amazon.co.uk or any other Amazon store in your territory.  E-book is also available.