Travel by train

I got on a train this morning. There were people peeping trough the curtained windows. They smiled, I smiled back. I knew their faces, faces of friends and family.

The train was leaving, destination unknown. I had packed no bags, I wouldn't return home. My friends, unknowing about my travels, would only hear hours later that I had left. Better this way.

The train finally left the station, I could see blue lights and hear sirens out of the windows. If only it wouldn't be so blurry, I might have seen what was going on outside. The familiar faces looked at me, welcomed me in the train. Wasn't that aunt Theresa? Had she not died years ago? And isn't that my childhood dog, hit by a car over a decade back?

I got under a train this morning. There were people peeping through the curtained windows. They weren't smiling.