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Rated: E · Prose · Environment · #1682184
About 3 AM at a trainstop in Nowheretown, America two strangers huddle together...
About 3 AM at a train stop in Nowhere Town, America two strangers huddle underneath the tinge of a station light in the pouring rain. One points to the map with his bony finger while the other tries to stay dry. Both appear ragged and witch-like. Neither know where they are going but the shared companionship of the moment eases away the dread of being lost in a foreign country. Trains groan past the station but they are carrying natural commodities such as coal and oil. They are not the type to carry human cargo.

The first man, a Danish fisherman named Olfred wonders how long he's been away from his native countries and how his family is faring without him. The second man, a native born Swede, who came to this country at the turn of the century, and like everyone else got lost in the upheavals of the Great Depression, silently forms the name of familiar places through parted lips, as though the ceaseless repetition of the names of such people and places will save them from whatever unknown ravages may have befallen them since he left home close to a year ago. One has to wonder about such things and the imagination is keen on amplifying real and perceived demons.

Neither man has much in common with the other. It was only by chance that they found each other under the sleek city lights of Nowhere Town, America, the place where nothing happens, no cars seem to pass in and out of it like in every other town and its citizens are silent about the fact that it never existed; yet still they visit…

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