Ticket To Ride (300 words)

The steel tracks shook as the train pulled into the old station. Smoke billowed from the engine as the embarking and debarking passengers scuttled about. All of them but one boy who still stood by edge of the tracks, ticket in hand, with a confused look on his face.

"All aboard," came the call.

"Can I help you?" said the ticket-taker, breaking him from his revelry.

"I'm not sure. I think I might be dreaming but I pinched myself and it didn't work."

"Hmm? Not dreaming," chuckled the kind-faced, grey haired man pinching himself before continuing. "Let's see that ticket; that usually sheds some light on things."

The boy handed over the ticket. "But... I swear I was just in bed at home and I don't remember coming here.”

“At home in bed on such a beautiful day? Now that's silly,” replied the old man knowingly, as he studied the ticket.

The boy blushed. “Well, I’ve been awful sick lately. Mom said It's cause the radiation makes me nauseous but I think she’s just being brave for me.”

“Why’s that?”

“Cause, sometimes at night, when they think I’m asleep I hear her and Daddy crying.”

“What a wonderful little boy,” replied the ticket-taker ruffling the boy’s hair. “Appears, everything’s in order, though.”

The boy gulped, “ Am I dead?”

“What makes you say that?

“Well, I don’t feel sick anymore and if I’m not dreaming...” The boy said softly before continuing. “ Will I ever get to see my parents and my cat Sammy, again?”

“ Of course, son. Dead, don't mean much here and everyone gets a ticket to ride sooner or later. Although it’s not always a train station that they see. Now, buck up. We don’t want to get behind schedule,” grinned the old man as the train whistle blew.