Roll With It Short Stories

Day Seven

Word Count 3: 300

Prompt 17: Red Train

The man had come to the Ivory Cities on a red train, it was only proper that he leave on one. The cars pulled away and he kept his hat pulled down over his hard face, leaving the station without a second glance. Otto feared if he looked up he'd see himself sitting in the seat across from him, the him who had been heading the opposite way some 30 years ago. He wanted to lift up his arms reach through time, grab the schmuck by his baby blue sweater, and shake him until his last breath, just to spare the city and himself all those years of each other's company. Instead a woman came to sit before him, blond, dressed in blue, with the smell of money about her. It was everything he was trying to leave behind and her presence felt like a stain the cities sent following after him.

She smiled cordially, offered her name and her hand, of which he took neither. He mumbled something about being tired, she agreed but did not move from her seat. The hours ticked on, the snow on the mountains building so that he could picture the train above, like a streak of blood on a white tile floor. He shivered in his coat though the train was warm enough.

Otto tapped his nails against the seat, looking back toward the car door for someone to arrive and explain why they had stopped. His back getting sore from twisting around he folded his arms and settled for tapping his foot. The woman in blue mentioned the weather and how they could be stuck for quite awhile. Otto felt sweat drip down his neck, eyeing his suitcase above him and concerned bellboys peeking through the car's window. "Hopefully not too long." He replied.