Last Ride
I loved late-night train rides home until one autumn evening when the train was eerily empty except for an old woman. As we traveled, lights flickered, and whispers filled the air,
"You shouldn't have boarded tonight."
The old woman's unnatural blue eyes met mine as she warned,
"This train isn't bound for where you think."
Panic set in; I wanted to leave at the next stop, but the train didn't slow. It entered a tunnel not on the map, the whispers turning into a mourning chorus.
Emerging, the night sky turned into day. The woman vanished, leaving her warning,
"You're one of us now. I've been on this train since, whispering to new passengers, bot to board the train at this hour but no one ever hears me “
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