Every morning I wake to the sound of the trains. They are my companions, but it’s strange how I’d never noticed them before. After so many days alone in this room I now know the schedule by heart, and there is no need for an alarm because the whistles are more accurate than any clock. Lying alone I prepare to fight yet another hangover while the smell of stale booze surrounds me. I debate opening my eyes to the filthy room as I hear the latest train fading into the distance, sounding exactly as it did on the day she left.
Train Songs

Unexpected, punched in the gut ending
Thank you for reading
You sure have a way to capture your audience!
Thank you.
I can hear the trains
Thank you.
Sad but very good!!
Thank you.
There’s something about a train. Good one.
Thank you for reading.
Read many of your stories. Lived a few. You paint a great picture with words
Thank you for reading.
Always love reading your work.
Thank you.
A nice, gritty tale of a lost love–and a lost life. LIKED IT!
Thank you for reading.
Keep doing what comes natural.chasrg
So much is said in such few words, painting a clear woeful picture.