TRAIN THROUGH TIME
A short story about a women travel through time
The clacking of the train deafened me. The laughter and chatter around me faded away. The orange hue of the sun blazed through the window, casting shadows on my face, yet it felt darker. Even my bright clothes seemed to absorb the light, deepening the gloom.
The train was full, but the seat next to me was empty. In this world, time travel was possible — both to the future and the past — but it was a one-way ticket with no return. This was a permanent escape from misery. We often dwelled on the past or dreamed of the future. I was no exception. Even in moments of brightness with my loved ones, he always talked about the past, and I contemplated the future. Today, he was gone on the train that goes backward, and the present seemed bleaker than ever.
The train clacked faster. The trees outside blurred, warping and bending as if time itself were being stretched. My body was leaning backward, heading to the future, leaving behind a life of desperation. The laughter around me grew louder. Their happiness existed due to my sorrow. What a cruel world, needing bad things for good things to exist. This perfect world needs flaws too.
The world kept spinning, but I remained where he left me — frozen and abandoned. The laughter grew louder, mocking my sorrow. The sun blazed brighter, but my burned skin felt no pain.
A soothing voice emerged. Everyone fastened their seatbelts and sank into their seats, their faces relaxed in anticipation of the bright future. I felt only unease. The seat’s vibrations did little to alleviate my discomfort. The train rocked unsteadily. Maybe this time something would change, I hoped. Not to come back as it was, but only to understand. Yet deep down, I knew there was no intersection of the past and the future.
The train reached the speed of light. The green trees outside dissolved into streaks of white. Electricity buzzed, and lights flickered. This was it — I had left everything behind.
The cheerful faces around me seemed distant and irrelevant. I remained where I was abandoned, struggling to make sense of everything while failing to move forward. Gravity nailed my body to my seat. I clutched my thigh tightly. The train crossed into an empty state of time and space. In that second, his laughter, our arguments, and the quiet moments we shared flashed before me. Maybe this time, when the future becomes the present, I might finally understand why he was the way he was. And when the past becomes the present, he might finally understand why I am who I am.
The train surged forward. An alarm rang relentlessly, signaling a critical speed. The white light radiated intensely, searing my eyes. My vision blurred, then faded into a sea of white. The present became the past, and there was no going back.
