From the street corner outside the farm, take a left, cross the bridge and follow the dirt road right to the corner. Now, the tracks there look abandoned, but let me tell you, that's part of the charm. That's what they always told me, and it wasn't until last summer that I actually went out there myself. It was raining today, the sun descending beneath the trees and the street lamps flickering awake. I checked my watch. 9:33. And then that's when I heard it. The click-click of the wheels. The train, gilded and glowing, came to a stop and opened its doors. I looked like the only one at the stop, yes, but I certainly wasn't alone. The golden glow cast shadows on the ground of spirits and beings from other realms who joined me as passengers. I took a seat between the twelve-eyed angel and a glowing yellow demon. Nobody here was dangerous, by any means. And we did not bother with where we were going. The train was a round-trip, and existed solely for these sorts of get-togethers.
A gray butler ghost stepped out from the closed engine room door, holding a pitcher of water. He filled all 143 glasses on that train car, wished everyone a happy trip, and stepped back in. He was always such a nice guy. 143 voices all talking in one conversation or another, discussing, joking, some even singing. A golden little party whipping through the old American countryside at breakneck pace. "Attention, passengers, prepare for takeoff."
The best part. The train lifted from the tracks quite seamlessly and soared off into the night, over humble little towns and bustling cities. The sights always seemed to catch the eye of the sprites and beasts on board, and then that turned the attention to the humans. "You mean you live there? What's it like? I hear the streets are paved with gold!"
The truth is always so much better for them. We don't live like kings there on Earth. We live like a family. Everyone who works helps someone else, somewhere. We return home to the people we love the most and help them out, and live and coexist with each other. yes, there's kinks, but we've always had a knack for sorting them out. The stories of life down there are always so humbling for them. The clamor dies down and the train almost becomes silent, the only sounds some hushed talking and stunned admiration of the world of the humans. There's a couple clinks, and the train returns to its rails. The butler steps out for just another moment, pours more waters and offers some of the world's greatest foods to the guests, and returns to his post in the engine room. Somehow, somewhere, someone brought 143 people from the realms of the mundane and fantastic together for just another glamorous evening.
I wondered just who was behind this all and why. I've heard the line's run for hundreds of years, but with this being the start of my second year on the trip, I was still new. "Attention, passengers, prepare to dive," the intercom called.
The train had come off its rails again, this time bordering the Atlantic Ocean, and sunk below the sea. The water was stopped by magic barriers on the screen windows, and soon attention turned towards the people who lived down here. Merfolk, who had assumed a human form for the trip, told tales of meeting and making strange new creatures, sunken treasure and troubles aboard human ships. Amidst the discussion, I stepped out to the engine room. The butler greeted me, shook my hand, and asked my business.
"I want to meet the conductor."
"Very well."
He walked me past the engine, silently but surely working as hard as the rest of the staff to assure a great night, and led me right to the conductor. A glowing giant of a man turned from his post at the controls and greeted me.
"Who are you?"
"I am the conductor," he said, "a mountain of wealth. Not that of gold and gems, but of thoughts and treasures. It's nice to meet you, human. Your trip is always the one they love the most."
"Thank you," I reply.
"I don't get many visitors here," he told me as he pulled a lever and flipped some switches.
The train resurfaced from the ocean and connected to some tracks. We were in France, it seemed, but not for long. "Attention, passengers, prepare for a second takeoff."
The train soared above the cities and clouds, and the faces of angels could be seen in the windows. A wyvern swooped past the front window. "Was there anything you wanted to know?" he asked.
"How long have you been doing this?"
"Oh, not long enough. I've lost count after five hundred. It wasn't worth counting the past. I've learned to treasure the future."
"Why did you start doing this?"
"Creatures were always fighting with each other, it seemed, and nobody knew who each other were. I've brought them all together, or at least as many as I could, just to cherish the beauty of it all. And their sentimental thoughts of it all has kept me more alive than ever. I've never been happier in my long, long life."
"Conductor?" I ask.
"yes, human?"
"You're a nice guy. Thank you for answering my questions."
"It's been a pleasure," he replied as the train connected to more tracks.
He held out his hand, and I wrapped my hand around one of his mighty fingers as we shook. I returned to the cabin with a smile on my face. The golden, glowing locomotive rushed through the Siberian tundra, snow whipping all around it racing dogs along the tracks.
We rode out the rest of the trip, discussing with the creatures and having lovely meals and sharing comedic anecdotes of our lives. Eventually, the train came to a stop again, and one by one all 143 of us shuffled off.
The gentle rain came down on the concrete, the gentle glow of a streetlamp illuminated the stop. We had all returned to our lives, but were sure we'd all meet again when the train came back to town. 10:33, right on the dot. I followed the dirt road back to the bridge and crossed the street and walked back towards the farm, heading back into town. I never told my wife just why I took the train that late or what I was doing, but when she asked why I took that round-trip train, I knew by heart I was going to tell her it was my type of train. And maybe she'd join me on a trip, and I could tell the creatures of the world all about how I loved one woman so much that I shared my life with her, and we could watch the sights, the world of the mundane and supernatural merging as one so beautifully.
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