Everglow: Friend From Far Away

2 - Train Tales

The black of night slowly began to give way to the light of the sun. Its rays creeped up from the horizon, showering the forests and buildings of Münich with a soft golden light.

Fischer let a huge yawn escape from his mouth as he plodded along beside the railway. He checked his watch, hidden beneath his soft but comfortable coat.

5:42 am. Seven hours since his shift started.

Rubbing his weary eyes, he took one last gaze at the steel and wood that made up the railway. The same railway which he had looked after for the past seven hours.

It wasn't the best job in the world. Long hours, a boring task and worst of all, not a great pay.

A pay which he desperately needed.

The sound of a blaring horn interrupted his train of thought. Turning his back to the stone wall and shifting his focus to behind him, he saw a large red vehicle rolling towards him.

The train was massive, a behemoth of a vehicle. It's horn blaring, it's lights blazing as it thundered down the track.

Fischer took a few steps towards the wall, putting a little more space between him and the 15,000 ton locomotive. The train rolled along the track, dwarfing the normally tall man that stood in awe of it. The vehicle pulled the air along with it, blowing his jacket all over the place, and almost taking him with it.

The conductors of those trains were comfortable in their seats, cruising down a set path on a vehicle that made sure they were happy. They had it easy compared to the rail rats that worked outside in the freezing German air.

Rail rats like Fischer. He gazed at the train as it continued down the track, slowly disappearing into the morning fog.

A conductor's pay against a rail rat's was like a bar of gold compared to a hundred dollar note. They rode in luxury, not a care in the world. It was Fischer's dream job.

To have the power of a 15,000 ton train in his hands, the freedom to explore the countryside and the peace of it all. To him, it was the best job in the world. But he was a long way off that position. Before he could become the king he'd have to shine the king's shoes.

Fischer's watch began to beep, signalling the end of what felt like his eternal shift.

"Finally," he muttered under his breath, a small amount of frost escaping from his mouth as he spoke.

He turned around and headed back towards the control centre, the gravel under his feet crunching with every step.

Making his way up the steps of the control room, the air around him began to warm as he opened the rickety steel door. The inside of the control room was filled with blinking gadgets, switches and levers, none of which a rail rat was allowed to touch, less they break something important.

The goosebumps on Fischer's skin began to fade as the cozy warm air wrapped around him like a blanket, fighting off the freezing outside air. As he moved through the building, a gruff man with a pair of glasses noticed him.

"Heading home Fisch?" he asked, his voice cold and raspy.

The man pulled a cigarette from a packet and struck a lighter, igniting a small but beautiful flame.

"Hey Kurtz. Yea, shift ends at 5:45,"

"Well, have a good one,"

"Thank you, you too."

Fischer let out a small smile at Kurtz as he made his way to the rear of the building. He spied the green exit sign hanging from the metal ceiling and made his way to it, dodging the multiple pipes and obstructions that jutted out from the walls and floor.

The door to the control room looked like some sort of doomsday bunker meshed with a battleship's watertight door. It was made of 35 millimetre thick steel and was as heavy as a car.

Fischer punched in the code to the door and took a step back as it started hissing. The whirring of motors and the stress of metal echoed through the room as the door slowly began to swing open, revealing the soft light of outside. Taking a deep breath in, he stepped out.

Thoughts of home started to flood his mind again. Work was a temporary escape from all that, but at the end of the day he would always end up back at that hell hole he called a home. Eyes down, he made his way through the barren car park. At 5:49 in the morning there were only about five cars in the car park, including Fischer's.

Pulling out his keys, he spied his white vehicle and made his way to it. Sliding the key into the socket, he heard a faint 'click' and the car unlocked. Opening the door, he clambered inside. The sounds of freight trains roaring down the tracks could still be heard, echoing through the area like thunder. The howling wind screamed as well, adding to the hellish ambience of the railway station.

Fischer turned the keys in his car, and the vehicle sputtered to life. It was no freight train, but for now it would have to do. Engaging his head lights and shifting it from neutral to first, he began to head home.