The voice faded and after a moment he forgot it had even been there. The emptiness he felt seemed to smother him and he could not breathe, although he didn’t feel he needed to breathe anyway. There was a tunnel approaching and in a moment the strange landscape was hidden from view by the terracotta bricks of the tunnel, the tunnel stretched on for as far as he could see the same dull brickwork somehow lit up clearly despite the lack of lighting. He became aware of movement in the train, what appeared to be a ticket collector slid into the carriage, although it was difficult to tell as a shimmer seemed to surround him, like the heat rising from the concrete on a summers day. The collector stared around the carriage at the silent passengers pausing as he locked eyes with the man. A frown creased his face and he seated himself opposite.

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I like to write stories that can be taken a million different ways, they just take a bit of imagination. For this reason I don't give any guidance.

updated Sep 26, 2008 by slightlyodd