The Dead Are Ghosts

Every time Marvin rode the subway, he thought of Sarah. It got to the point he wondered if she was haunting him. For more than a decade they'd ridden the train together every morning, her to the high school where she taught, him to the warehouse that he managed. When he closed his eyes, he felt Sarah sitting next to him. Sometimes she'd even lay her head on his shoulder like she used to. He didn't want to look for fear of what he would see.

The dead ARE ghosts, but not in the world around us. They live inside.

You Are The Method

I met the man with the train face at a strawberry picking. Where you buy the basket, scatter into the field, pick as many as you like or as will fit. He moved in a straight line, boring ever farther ahead, picking with one hand, then the other, then engineering the basket forward along the ground. When I was beside him, I could feel his breath like steam; his eyes seemed to let out more light than they took in. Full basket, he passed it to his wife. Her face was a station. She handed him a new, empty basket.

From Guest Contributor Ken Poyner

Out Of Time

Christopher ran as fast as possible to the station. Typical, leaving it to the last minute.

He kept hoping Brian would say something first. Even if it wasn't I'm sorry, the simple act of reaching out would have encouraged Christopher to admit the accusations had been out of line. He can't help his sensitive heart, and sometimes Brian was the victim.

Now Brian is on the train to Boston. Now Brian is marrying the ex he'd left for Christopher. Now Brian is dead.

The apology will forever go unstated. He will forever be alone. Christopher has fallen out of time.

Safe?

The train came to a halt, and the platform filled with German police. They entered, and people quieted while my heart pounded.

“Papers!”

I handed my identification to the Nazi, and he scanned them, eyeing me at the same time as I sweated profusely. He tossed them on my lap and moved on, not noticing the forgery.

Screams ensued as the woman behind me beseeched the officer to let her husband go, and then I heard a thud. The Man had collapsed, presumably dead and the woman in hysterics was taken away.

A few more stops and I’ll be safe.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Storm

The snow and wind pelted my face. The inclemency hadn’t started until I was half-way to the subway station, and people slipped across the pavement rushing to get home. Vehicles honked at pedestrians cutting in and out of lanes, so I had to be careful. I tried not to think about the numbing in my fingers after forgetting my gloves at home.

After a half hour walk which should’ve taken ten minutes, I was in the station.

When the train arrived and I boarded, I knew it would be a matter of time before I’d be snug by the fireplace.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

A Close Call

She traveled on a budget during her graduation trip. After getting off the train, she headed to a village near a scenic spot. It was dark when she arrived. She hoped to stay overnight with a peasant family.

A 58-year-old man passed and spotted her crouching alone on the road. He offered to let her stay over. He was too poor to afford a wife and believed it was his chance. He made her tea and put knockout drops in it.

As she was about to drink it, two travelers knocked at the door and asked for a night’s lodging.From Guest Contributor Huina Zheng

Huina either coaches her students to write at work or write stories for fun after work.

Fantasy

Have you ever had a day where you just want to fantasize? I have. After long hours at a desk, on the way home after finding a seat on the railroad, I close my eyes and envision flying the Millennium Falcon. Chewbacca sits beside me, while Han Solo is working on something in the back room, cracking jokes. I make the jump to lightspeed and Chewbacca roars. I slowly cruise through the darkness of space and admire the surrounding planets.

Life is good and I’m excited about our mission.

The conductor announces my stop.

I exit the train to reality.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

The Day Before Yesterday

Meanwhile, Franz Kafka sells another piece of his dead mother’s jewelry to pay for his brothel visits. Pablo Picasso and Henri Matisse go horseback riding together. Alma Mahler has just aborted their child. The police question Picasso, but he has an alibi and they release him after slapping him around. Summer is fading, and Rainer Maria Rilke feels it as a wound in his chest. Using an alias, Adolf Hitler boards a train for Munich to escape conscription in the Austro-Hungarian army. Da Vinci’s Mona Lisa is missing from the Louvre. Museumgoers lay flowers in front of the bare wall.

From Guest Contributor Howie Good

Howie's latest poetry collection, THE HORSES WERE BEAUTIFUL, is forthcoming from Grey Book Press.

Worth

We knew that the Dragon was on the train, hired to guard the locked safe that held the payroll. Too many armed clerks had been lost. But in such a small space, the Dragon could not stretch his wings, could not swing his claws. If he used his fire, the wooden train car would burn. Yes, the safe would survive, but it might fall to the tracks and be subject to anyone with the block and tackle to retrieve it. No one knew it was the Dragon we were after. You would think they would have noticed the giant collar.

From Guest Contributor Ken Poyner

Leaving Home

When he slammed the door, he did not say goodbye. He just left. He left the house, the street, the small town, all the narrow-mindedness he had endured for eighteen years. No one was going to tell him what to do or what to believe.

He boarded the train, and soon he was in boot camp. Then he was a full-fledged soldier. He had enough anger inside to slay the enemy. Before long he was on a troop ship, and then in the forests of France where he began to miss the town where he grew up.

It was 1942.

From Guest Contributor Anita G. Gorman