A Train
It smelt of spilled coffee and dirty socks. The lights flickered on, and off, on, and off. The windows were covered with grime and cracks from the train’s hard, long life.
It had an atmosphere of gloom and exhaustion, yet the late sunlight crept through the windows, illuminating the tired, hungry passengers.
A little boy, sitting on his mother’s lap, was wailing for a lost toy. Her comforting arms woven around him, telling him that it would come back, of course it would come back. She rocked him slowly to sleep until he was curled up like a kitten in her lap. She smiled down at him with a secret knowledge that these days would pass quickly until he was suddenly a man, grown up with her baby gone forever. She stroked his little blond head, her tired eyes drifting to the window, and would stay there until the train stopped.
A large man holding a guitar clutched into the rail tighter as the train moved faster. The guitar was scratched and faded. Its strings had snapped over time with use and love. He tossed his bundle of dreadlocks back from his face and looked down at the flyer in his hand with excitement and pride.