The Runaway Train

I stared at the picture of the train. Not for the first time I was convinced that I saw a movement. Very slight, almost imperceptible, but yes, it was there. From what I could make out it looked like a hand waving, in the corner of the window, you know, the small window that is by the first seat just outside of the carriage door?

I always tried to go for that seat too, or as close to it as I could get. It's much easier if you need to go to the toilet, rather than trying to steady yourself walking down the aisle, bags in hand. I would always lose my footing, and often fall into someone's lap, and on the way back having found I'd lost my seat, as well as my dignity.

There it was again, waving, or was it desperately trying to reach out for help?

Shuddering, I threw the picture to the floor. I was being ridiculous. I had been working too hard lately, and spending far too much time commuting there and back. I seriously needed a break.

I picked up the picture and shoved it into a draw. I promised myself, the next time I was home I would have a good clear out, and that picture would be the first thing to go.

I didn't know why I hadn't thrown it away in the first place, superstition, I guess.

It came into my possession a few days ago when I had been out for a walk along the canal, and as I stopped to listen to a train trundle by noisily above, a newspaper clipping floated down towards me.

I looked up thinking someone must have thrown it out of the window, but only just caught sight of the train as it sped past.

I had looked down at the picture, momentarily confused by the scene staring back at me. It depicted a train in motion, identical to the one I had just seen above, only with red sparks flying from its tracks, and a window, a window with a hand visible in it.

I'd put it in my jacket pocket and thought no more of it until today, while rooting around for change, I found it, and, looking closely, intently, I saw the hand, moving.

I hadn't been able to take my eyes off it since.

Until now, when it suddenly dawned on me how crazy I was being, and how tired I must be to let my imagination run away with me like this!

With the image tucked safely away, I put on the TV and settled down to my usual evening of news and soaps.

Letting the drama of other people's lives, both real and imaginary, fill the void in my own life.

I must have dozed off, as when I opened my eyes it was dark, the only light emanating from the TV.

I stretched my arms and decided it was time to go to bed. I reached for the remote and was about turn the TV off when I was held by the image on the screen.

It was the same train I had seen whilst walking by the canal, and the same train that was in my picture.

I turned the sound up, the pounding in my head making it difficult for me to hear.

'After the tragic accident three days ago,' the reporter read, 'when a high speed train failed to slow, accelerating with such momentum that it derailed killing all passengers on board. We are appealing for help to find one passenger whose body has been found, but is as yet unknown. Everyone else has been identified through ticket sales, all except this one body. Its charred remains make it impossible to recognise. So we are now reaching out to you, the public, to come forward if you are aware of anyone who has been missing, or who hasn't been in contact for the last few days.

We believe the person to be young.

We have spoken to a group of teenagers locally who are well know for avoiding purchasing tickets by just buying one, and then passing it along between them. Usually traveling as a group, they have admitted that, when alone, they will sit on the end seat near the door, and when they see the conductor coming, hide in the toilet until they are sure he or she has passed. We believe this is what might have happened here.

I would like to take this sad occasion to send a message to anyone thinking of boarding a train without a ticket. The consequences in this instance have been severe, with the poor soul lying alone with no family yet to grieve. But under normal circumstances there will be a serious penalty charge for anyone caught on a train without a ticket. If you do find yourself on a train without a ticket please ensure that you find the conductor immediately, and they will issue you with one.'

I looked at the draw where the picture lay hidden. Somehow, I knew that when they identified the body, the hand in the window would disappear. And if they never find out who it is?...

It would be a long time before I dared look to check. And I would never board a train without a ticket again.