A Train at Dawn to Nowhere

The first rays of the sun barely brushed the horizon when Daniel stepped onto the dimly illuminated deck. His breath flowed out in delicate, swirling mist, blending with the cold of the morning air. With the exception of a station attendant idly mopping the tiled floor and a stray cat snuggled up on a seat, the station was almost deserted. It was 4:55 AM on the vintage analog clock that hung over the ticket counter.

Daniel's fingers clenched around the strap of his frayed duffel bag, as though it contained the end of his life. He had no idea why he had purchased the ticket. Nowhere was listed as the destination. Without hesitation, the ticket dealer, an elderly man with a knowing smirk and clouded eyes, had delivered it to him.

At five sharp, the man had whispered, "Train leaves." "If you are looking for solutions, better board."

Daniel was not certain if he had any more questions. A haze of sorrow, restless nights, and unsaid words had engulfed his life. Perhaps he was fleeing, or perhaps he was looking for something, but he was no longer able to distinguish.

The silence was broken by the distant sound of a train whistle. The tremors went through the earth, and a moment later a black locomotive loomed out of the mists. Its headlights illuminated the tracks in front of it like twin suns. The doors slid open with a whisper, and the engine hissed as it slowed to a stop.

Neither a conductor nor an announcement was present. The doorway is empty and enticing.

Daniel paused, half expecting someone to stop him, and looked back at the platform. Nobody did. He inhaled deeply before entering.

There was nobody on the train. Or so he believed.

The décor was charmingly old world, with brass fixtures, polished hardwood benches, and a subtle metallic and lavender aroma. He put his backpack on the floor and picked a seat beside the window.

He looked out as the train lurched forward. The lights of the city flickered and then vanished. Soon, the scene was reduced to skeletal trees and wide expanses of hazy meadows, with their twisted branches extending like begging hands toward the sky.

Daniel briefly closed his eyes. It felt almost calming to hear the wheels clattering rhythmically against the tracks. He was no longer alone when he opened them.

A woman wearing a flowing white dress sat across the aisle. Around her neck, her pale fingers played with a locket. Her dark eyes were staring off into space, as though she were seeing something otherworldly.

Daniel cleared his throat. "Are you aware of the destination of this train?"

Slowly, she turned to face him. She ghosted a small smile. "Do you?"

He felt his spine tingle at the question. He averted his gaze and observed the rolling, shadowed terrain.

After some time, she said, "It does not matter." "Even if we may not believe it, we are all on our way someplace."

Daniel scowled. "I do not recall purchasing a ticket for this location."

Her laughter sounded like wind chimes in the wind. "No one ever does."

As the flight progressed, more passengers showed up. Some people sat by themselves and gazed out the windows. Others spoke in quiet tones among themselves. There was a young couple holding hands but never talking, an elderly man with a cane, and a toddler holding a ragged teddy bear.

The mood was a little strange. It was not particularly sinister, but Daniel felt uneasy about it. Time seemed warped, and the train moved in an oddly weightless manner, as though it were gliding over a void between dreams and reality.

Once more, the white woman spoke. "You are still not sure, are you?"

Daniel gave a headshake. "Understand what?"

She extracted a small piece of paper from her locket. She gave it to him.

It was a clipping from the newspaper. It was a recent date. Too recently.

"After a tragic accident, a local man was found dead in his apartment."

Daniel's stomach dropped. His hands shaking, he glanced over the article. His name, in bold letters, stared back at him from the newspaper. The phrase "carbon monoxide poisoning" stuck out on the page like scars, but the details blended together.

His thoughts whirled. This must have been an error. He was still alive. This train carried him. He could hear the distant buzz of the engine and feel the chilly pane against his fingertips.

The woman spoke in a soft yet forceful tone. "Daniel, this train does not transport passengers anywhere. It leads them to a realization.

His legs felt weak as he attempted to stand. He breathed in rough, quick breaths.

"This is not possible," he said.

But he knew in his heart. For so long, he had been fleeing—from suffering, from loss, from himself. He had already reached his destination, thus the train had not been carrying him anywhere.

He glanced at the other travelers. A few continued to gaze out the window, absorbed in their own epiphanies. Some had disappeared.

His hand was touched by the white-clad woman. "You do not need to feel scared. This is not the end.

The vista outside grew brighter as the train's speed decreased. A golden horizon was revealed after the mist cleared. He had never seen anything like that, and it was stunning.

Daniel relaxed for the first time in what seemed like forever.

And he was carried into the dawn by the train to Nowhere.