Horizon's my target

Chapter Seven: Explaining this stranger. (And why is there a train?)

No like seriously w h y 

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Naturally, Ghostbur wasn't sure how they got where they were, but now they were here he guessed. (mm yes, 10/10 writing talent as you can see w e o w -)

As the train doors finally opened, he could see they were in a grassy field. There were a couple dark trees here and there, but it was mostly wildflowers and grass as far as the eye could see, accented by the bright, clear blue sky and the sun far, far above their heads. A couple clouds dotted the blue expanse though, almost like bits of cotton spread across a wide blue blanket; Ghostbur couldn't help but think about how pretty it was overall.

After blinking once or twice, Ghostbur stepped out, eyes adjusting to the bright sunshine, followed closely behind by the ma- Wilbur.

...

Ghostbur thought he preferred 'The Man'; now he felt like this man was a person, since he had a name and whatnot. 

He turned back to ask Wilbur something, but stopped. He was still on the train, back facing Ghostbur. If he was seeing things correctly, he was even sipping from his teacup nonchalantly, as always.

"Boo." Someone said from behind. Ghostbur nearly jumped out of his skin, then breathed a sigh of relief as he realized it was just Wilbur. However, he looked... starrier? More ghost-like, if that made sense?

"Wilbur!" He screeched, rolling the name around on his tongue for a second; why did it feel so... familiar? "But aren't you... How are you.. ?!"

Wilbur laughed, then scratched the back of his neck. He walked up to the train, tracing the back of Wilbur's (his? Ghostbru was confused) neck, staring off into the distance as he explained:

"Yea, that's me. Thing is, this is also me." He gestured to himself, the one pointing at the Wilbur inside the train. "It's kinda complicated, but I'll try to simplify it for your pea brain."

Hostbur (HOSTBUR?! I've set off the fanartists on accident o h g o d -) decided to let that comment slide, but only just this once. 

"How generous." Wilbur said with a slight smirk on his lips. Stupid mind-reading. "Basically, that's the 'real'" he air-quoted "me in there, since, y'know, it's my afterlife. I'm kinda stuck there. This version you see of me," He waved his hands at his face. "Is like the 'ghost' version of me? Like I've split kinda to be able to move around still?"

"But then what about-?" Ghostbur started, but was quickly cut off.

"The train? Thanks for reminding me." With a snap of his fingers, Wilbur tapped the window of the train with his knuckles twice, and in a flash, the train shrunk back into the little toy one he'd found what felt like years before.

"It could've been." Wilbur said absently, running a finger along the train as he turned it around in his hands.

"What could've been?" Ghostbur asked, nervousness filling his stomach slowly, like cement.

"Time." Wilbur said nonchalantly, finally pocketing the train and looking Ghostbur in the eyes again. He must really like my eyes, huh? He thought to himself bitterly. "You see, time passes WAYYYY faster for us than in reality."

"Like, for example," He said, walking over to a flower by a nearby tree. "This flower." He beckoned Ghostbur over with one finger, and he obliged, squatting down next to Wilbur and the flower.

"This is fully grown, correct?" he asked, and Ghostbur nodded. "Go to reality." Wilbur said, and Ghostbur imagined the underwater-type feeling he had whenever he visited reality. He shoved his hand through the feeling, meaning if any person walked by they'd see his hand.