Keepin’ this train a-rollin! Hey, that’s a good idea…
This song may help flavor this story.
If you have ideas for Prompts, Crunches, Sprints, Relays, Stretches, Fables, or other writing exercises in the future, please leave them in the comments! If you would like to write your own take for this exercise, please comment with a link so that I can see what you wrote and support your work, maybe even share your version with my subscribers. Please let me know if you have any thoughts, comments, or constructive criticisms as well!
Enjoy!
Crunch: Write about a train.
The ground swept past the window. Occasionally he would see a building, a car, a person, someone walking—a moment in time. It occurred to him that he was as fleeting an actor in their worlds as they were in his. He realized that any square-foot of ground he passed, was a precious but fleeting space.
The ground swept past the window.
He had with him a single bag. It was heavy—full to bursting with odds and ends and essentials. Clothes—not many, just enough for the journey. A book, a journal. A piece of paper with his itinerary, the stops the train will make, and the list of things he needed to pack, which he used the night before.
The ground swept past the window.
He was leaving home. A place comfortable and familiar, or so he told himself. The only thing that connected the place he was leaving with the place in his memories is that he called both places “home”. It was different now. The warm embrace of that place had turned to stone in his arms, and the cold chill touched everything he did. He was more alone at home than he was on this train. At least the people around him respected his anonymity, his space. The statuary of the place he called home regarded all he did with cold judgement.
The ground swept past the window.
He was heading to the city. Not at all comfortable or familiar. Busy, uncertain, scary. He was afraid of the city—afraid of the millions of intersecting lives, afraid of the uncertain paths. But he was called there—it was where he needed to be, at least for the duration of the trip. He had a mission. Some work to be done. He would go, and he would do it. And then, he would return home. He hoped he would return home different. Isn’t that what’s supposed to happen? But different or not, he had answered the call. He would be a fleeting actor in the kaleidoscoping performance of city life, and would return home—uncredited, but accomplished.
The ground swept past the window.
He wondered where his precious, fleeting space was.
(365 words you can’t stop me )
Talk to me!
Your feedback helps to improve my writing. I would really appreciate a comment on your thoughts on this writing exercise. Consider telling me your thoughts about:
Have you ever ridden on a train?
What has been your least favorite place to visit?
What place that you’ve visited has had the best food?
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy! Come back next week for another writing exercise!
Have you taken a look at the section called “The Volume” recently? All my longer-form stories are kept there! Be sure to take a look and catch up on any stories you’ve missed!
Thank you and God bless!
1. Not a proper train like an across-the-country train: I've ridden subway trains and the fun little trains you see in zoos, though.
2. Ooh, good question. I hate to say it because I have family out there, but I wasn't keen on Kansas over much. It's too flat, you know? Too big. I like a place with trees and hills. But that's just me.
3. When I was growing up, my family used to vacation in this little place called Sunset Beach in North Carolina, right above the border with South Carolina. You could go across a real drawbridge to an island, and we'd stay at this little hotel and then walk to the beach, and on other days we'd go around to different places, and there were restaurants there, one was called Ella's if I recall correctly, and they had the best hush puppies in the whole wide world. I could've eaten those for *DAYS*. The hush puppies you get at the chain restaurants had nothing on those.
I haven't been back in ages, but man, good memories.
When I was a little kid, my Grandma would take me to the train station so we could watch them come and go. I loved trains you see. I told her it was my dream to one day ride them. She told me that some people did that every day.
Two decades later, I rode the same train from the same station, to work each evening. It felt just like you described here, at first. Eventually it became demystified and routine. But oh, those first few months...