fiction

The Train Game

Sally

The first time it happened they were playing The Train Game.

Alistair and his brother, Duncan, had made up that game. They would stand on the knoll to watch the train go by. As they caught glimpses of the people in the cars, one would shout, “Two boys and their dad!” Then the other one had to make up the story of what they were doing on the train. Going on vacation, going to visit their mother in prison, going to crazy Uncle Freddy’s house. The longer they played, the more absurd the stories became.

If the train was long enough and the stories short enough, they could each tell a few. They would laugh as they tried to outdo the other.

On this particular day, though, Duncan saw the little girl at the same time as Alistair. He shouted, “Girl with big eyes and frizzy hair!”

Alistair was silent.

“C’mon! It’s an easy one,” said Duncan.

Alistair looked pale and sweaty.

“Are you okay?” Duncan asked.

Alistair shook his head, slowly, confusedly.

“I saw her whole life in her eyes,” he finally said.

Duncan dropped it.

A few days later they were playing the cloud game, which involved finding pictures in the clouds.

“A dragon,” Duncan shouted and pointed.

“A horse running away,” said Alistair, pointing.

“Little girl with frizzy hair,” Duncan said.

Alistair gasped. His face went white.

“Her life is painful,” he said.

Later that week, Alistair saw the girl in real life.

This is my submission to the Unicorn Challenge — a challenge with only two rules: 1) no more than 250 words, and 2) use the photo for a prompt.

Don’t ask me what the story means. I don’t know. I admit, though, that I saw it in the clouds.

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Published by Sally

13 thoughts on “The Train Game”

  4. And…?
    And…?
    Now my imagination’s working overtime.
    What a frightening ‘gift’ that woud be to have to have, though.
    A great take on the prompt, Sally.

    Reply

    1. Thanks, Jenne. I’ve been a cloud watcher my whole life. The night you posted the photo, I watched a cloud panther devour a cloud child.

      I asked my friend who was watching the sunset with me if he saw it. “No,” he said.

      “Didn’t you ever see pictures in the clouds?” I asked.

      “No,” he said again.

      I felt a little sad for him — oh, what he’s missing out on!

      But then I thought, what if it went the other direction and I’m the one missing out. What if what I saw really happened?

      And that became the seed for the story — a child discovering their innocent game is actually a terrible gift.

      Reply

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