I always liked riding the train. The faint glow of lonely compartments always made me feel at peace. What a joke to consider peace inside my broken battlefield. The delicate quiet of the night is no match for the thunderous power of machinery. But there I sat in the confines of an empty railcar, the soft rattle of the train keeping me company. Outside I see the fading remains of hundreds of years of existence pass by. “We will be arriving in fifteen minutes.”
Yet, something about the certainty of the destination always makes me uneasy. It isn’t the destination, but rather that once you’ve started you can’t escape the destination. The driver knows my name- He knows all our names.