The Train Of Life #1: a short story for those who need it

the courage

I was at the train station in broad daylight, with people bustling towards the open entrances and long lines forming as people waited for their turn.

It was a Sunday, and I was there because I had a bad day. I had seen text messages between my husband and another woman while he was in the shower.

It was one thing to know it was happening, but it was another to read the messages with my own two eyes.

She said she "loved him, too."

That word, "too," made all the difference because it meant that he had said it first.

He never said it to me. He would find ways to make me feel special without saying it, but deep down, I knew he didn't love me.

I sat on the public seats, fiddling with the old watch I always kept on my wrist, when a familiar voice greeted me.

I looked up to see the same man with his orange hair and train conductor's hat. He stuck out like a sore thumb, yet not a single person gave him a glance.

"Hi," he said with the same smile.

"Hi," I answered, my voice cracking as he sighed.

"Man, you're a hard one," he said softly. "A hard one to break."

"Sorry?" I had no idea what he was talking about, the man tilting his head at me.

"Do you want to get on?" he asked, and I blinked.

"The Train of Life. I can't force people on unless they want to. It's a rule. Believe me, I've tried."

The man pushed the front of his coat to the side, flashing me a tag that read 'The Train of Life'.

"I'm the conductor," he told me. "The Conductor of The Train of Life."

He paused and made a face. "That was a mouthful. Let me try again."

I watched him straighten his back before he stared straight at me, bending down into a low bow.

"I am the train conductor of The Train of Life," he repeated, and I wondered what the difference was from what he first said. "Uh-uh, it's different, my dear. Now, do you want to get on?"

"On where?" I was more confused than before. Did he just read my mind or did I say my thoughts out loud?

He pressed his lips together, blinked rapidly, and looked like he was trying to mask his frustration.

"The one thing they did not teach me back in my intern days was how to deal with potentially difficult passengers," he murmured.

He said my name, and my jaw dropped open.

"One day, you will find the courage to get on, and don't you think that day is today?"

"How'd you know my name?" I asked, feeling slightly unsettled.

"The hardest part is starting, Miss," he replied.

This time his smile was kind, and he opened his hand, stretching it out in front of me.

"It's a journey to die for. Ooh, wait. I shouldn't say that. I mean, it's a great journey, except it feels... unreal."

The more he talked, the more the image of a mysterious train conductor disappeared from my mind, and he kept his hand extended.

"Take my hand," he finally urged, and something in me clicked.

My hand stretched out and grabbed his. The joy in his eyes was evident, and he let out a whoop, beaming at me.

"Finally! That will definitely go on my record! Come, lady. Let's bring you on a journey!"

"Where is that?" I asked, but he didn't answer because he was pulling me through the station. His hand felt light, like it was there, but also like it wasn't.

I wondered what I was doing. I was about to snatch my hand away, but he tightened his grip.

The conductor turned to smile at me.

"It's always hard at first, but I assure you all will be well," he said loudly over the sound of the arriving train.

I was once in the front of the train station.

Now, I was moving past people and bumping into strangers I did not know. The wind was blowing my hair in every direction when the conductor let go of my hand.

He snapped his steel heels together, the sound echoing throughout the empty train station.

Wait, empty?

"Where did all the people go?"

I whipped my head around, realizing that I wasn't anymore at the same train station. My surroundings had changed.

"Follow me!" His voice rang out, urging me to follow him.

My legs carried my body onto the train. When I entered, I noticed that everything looked different. It was an old train that smelled like rusted metal, and the seats were dusty.

I tightened my cardigan around my body. The conductor tapped his walking stick on the ground, and the train began to move.

"Welcome aboard, my lady," he said with a flourish in his voice, "to the Train of Life."