The End of the Line, or Unforeseen Consequences

by solaris2001

The world passed outside of the train windows like a backdrop cranked by stagehands hidden behind it, sporadic posts and signs whipping by illegibly as his mind bounced between where he’d left and his destination. He couldn’t tell how long he’d been on the train with how many times he’d dozed off and the overcast sky hiding the elusive sun, but no single moment of his trip matter more than any other. Only the end of the line meant anything, the point at which his ambitions and freedom would come to an end with a stranger and a strange child.

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