From a writing prompt in The Dragon’s Rocketship today:
You’ve been gone for three days.
My mother tells me real trains used to speed along these tracks. She took me to see them once – giant steel beasts perched on parallel rails, waiting in silence for masters that never returned. She tells me she used to be afraid to walk between the lines, that if one of them raced behind you, you’d be dead before you heard their shrieking whistles.
I’m not afraid. That was a long time ago.
Now weeds have grown between the decaying wooden ties and saplings have stretched their limbs up and over the trail, forming an austere cathedral sacred to the memories of the past. I don’t worship between the trees, but you do, and I know if I follow the line, I’ll find you somewhere at the end.