A Train Ride To Remember

The 7:47 train was late.

Again.

Sven had set his alarm to wake him up early, earlier than usual, so he had time to eat breakfast, take his new medication, let that settle, and get to the station in time for his train.

Never the one to be late to anything, Sven arrived at the train station with fifteen minutes to spare, and sat on one of the cold, anti-homeless benches, which really wasn’t that comfortable to sit at even for a short time.

When the red LED ‘DELAY’ sign came flashing over the screen, Sven groaned, and took his phone out to send a quick email to work, letting them know of his possible lateness. However, just as he was about to hit ‘send’, an announcement came over the tannoy system.

“The next train to Balam will be leaving in 5 minutes from platform 12.”

Sven swiftly picked up his worn briefcase and took off across the station to the new platform. The train stood there waiting, a low rumbling sound emitting from the large carriage. He hurriedly stepped on and found an empty seat just as the doors slid closed behind him.

The train took off from the station with a jump, causing Sven to fall from his place on the chair and drop his briefcase, which then slid across the floor. He crawled over to it, under a bench in front of him, and collected it before anyone else could put their hands on his precious work.

When he lifted his head, he saw a bright flickering light flash through the windows. It was odd and colourful, different to the grey sky and distant sunlight he’d seen on the way in.

Sven sat on his seat, holding the case in clenched fists. His green eyes danced over the images he saw flying before him.

They were passing what looked like a water park. Or, more accurately, they were passing through a water park. Slides and fountains surrounded them on all sides, but rather than families and children running around and slipping over on the wet paths, there were animals.

A waddle of penguins were lining up for the three-person slide, flapping their feathered wings with excitement as they approached the front of the queue.

A parade of elephants, wading through the deep end of a large pool, were enjoying batting an inflated ball around with their trunks, and spraying each other when they missed their turn.

Sven was shocked. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing going on around him. He looked at everyone else in the train car. Some were glancing out of the windows, yawning and rubbing their eyes to wake up. Others were engrossed in their phones; talking, texting, playing mindless games. No-one else appeared to see any of the strangeness going on outside the window.

And just as quickly as the view had appeared, it was gone, replaced by a dark, suffocating tunnel.

Sven sat back in his seat, his mind whirring. The woman sitting across from him gave him an odd glance, but he ignored her. He could see light appearing again from the blackness, and leaned forward in anticipation of what he might next see.

He audibly gasped when he saw what was waiting.

Around the train was a glass tube, connecting it to the dark tunnel. It reminded Sven of the aquarium he visited often as a child, surrounded by plants and ocean animals and tonnes and tonnes of water.

Though, rather than thousands of brightly coloured fish zooming past in the glass enclosure, other creatures were staring back at him, waving their long, webbed fingers at the passengers as they flew by. Their tales were covered in a rainbow of scales; a cloud of soft, flowing hair floated about their pale faces.

Smiling at the merfolk through the window, Sven’s face became a grimace when they grinned back, showing off their shark-like teeth. They swam in circles, vaulting over the arched tunnel and coming down on the other side in seconds.

Again, no-one else seemed bothered by the strange happenings outside the window. They continued through this under-the-sea cave for some time, and Sven took in all the magic he could before the train carriage was plunged into darkness once again.

***

A small boy, around six, looked out of the window and saw nothing but black.

And so, he asked his mum, “Where did all the pictures go?”

And his mum, ever the attentive parent, looked up from her phone to answer. “Those are murals, darling, not pictures. We’re back at the station now, and those paintings stay in the tunnel for people to look at.”

The small boy looked over and saw Sven, pale and sweaty, leaning as far back into his seat as he could manage and staring at his reflection in the smudged window.

“Mummy, what’s wrong with that man?”

“Oh, him,” she muttered, reaching out and pulling her son closer in the chair. The train slowed as they reached the next station. Sven didn't attempt to move. “He’s just had too much bad medicine, I think.” The train came to a final stop, and the doors slid open with a BEEP.

"Don't worry, darling, he does this every day. We'll see him on the ride back home."