Friday Fictioneers 1-13-2017




The tracks lay abandoned, scattered with the rusty remains of long dead rail cars. He’d spent most of his youth imaginging the cars moving along the tracks like pictures he’d once seen, too far back to readily mesh with the reality before him. Still, he liked to slip among them, pretend to hear the hubbub, feel the constant rumble of wheels on steel. One day, he was going to sail away across the vast expanses of nothingness between the ruined city and somewhere, anywhere, but there. One day he was going to be free.


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