And suddenly I found myself on a train I couldn’t remember boarding, with no sense of where it was headed, nor the stops along its route. Its rhythmic mechanical whir oddly familiar yet simultaneously otherworldly.
Where was it going? Where was I going? Where do I get off? Do I ride it to its destination? More questions than answers whizzed through my head, almost as if competing with the train’s pace.
I lifted my head and took in my surroundings; a dimly lit empty car with hazy windows that occluded most of the outside world save for the intermittent bokeh of what I could only imagine were city lights.
I’d much rather concern myself with what’s on the inside before I attempted to comprehend what’s passing me by on the other side of those foggy panes of glass, fully aware they’d both inevitably be futile endeavors.
All I could really hope for was that I didn’t derail and maybe, just maybe, I was on a track carrying me some place I was meant to be.