railways. | friday fictioneers.

by C.E. Ayr

I spur my speed and the black smog escapes from my tube and pollutes the air. My wheels send out sparks as it rubs the train’s rails. My rusted engine shifts and I know the clock hits mid-afternoon.

An incoming train signals. “There you are,” I whisper. Our metal bodies almost touch, but the engineers design the railways with too much space to set us apart. At least I see you once a day.

When the night comes, I rest on this parking alone; but it leaves me in a deep sleep to think you have never been inches away.


Thank you for reading this story. If you want to talk about random things with me, do not hesitate to reach me through my “Contact” page. All the best love, my dear.


11 thoughts on “railways. | friday fictioneers.

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