The Train (Alt version)

So I showed The Train to my creative writing teacher and he felt it fell into the "AND IT WAS ALL A DREAM" cop-out ending, so here is the other, edited edition. It features a different description of the station and a slightly different dream sequence, although it is largely the same story.

The Train (alt)

Jonathon missed his train to Birmingham. There would be no getting to his meeting on time now, but adopting the ‘better late than never’ attitude, he still caught the train arriving exactly sixty minutes later. He was supposed to be staying in the city for staff training over the next three days anyway. Managing to get a ticket on discount, Jonathon stood around the Manchester station until the train arrived. The station was in a state of disrepair. It had the look of a project that had had lots of attention paid to it recently, but after being vandalised once or twice, the authorities had given up. Sitting on the steps was a hooded figure smoking a joint in plain sight, and on the other side near the entrance was a homeless woman huddle in the doorway, picking slowly at the paintwork. Jonathon boarded and in a listless manner dropped into the first available seat. An old woman straining to breathe due to her large suitcase immediately produced a seat reservation, he moved two rows in front, to identical seats she had just passed. As the train moved on, Jonathon fidgeted as he worried over walking into his meeting so late, and whether to go at all, although decided he would at least turn up for the three day course. He opened his rucksack and drank heavily from the bottle of whiskey inside. At the next stop a man wearing a black jacket and red jeans sat behind him, loudly chewing gum which suddenly became all Jonathon could focus on. The man’s face was elongated and pointy, a scraggly black beard wove its messy way over his face and chin. His eyes were glazed over and he smelled of rollup cigarettes. The rhythm of chew, pop, chew, pop became increasingly aggravating and in the seat in front a child began to cry. Jonathon reached for his whiskey.

Jonathon’s mobile phone rang loudly in his pocket; the vibrations along with the gentle shaking of the train became a brief guilty pleasure. Jonathon’s wife was not happy when he told her how late he would be for his meeting and by the time the phone call was over another long drink from the whiskey bottle was needed. As Jonathon pulled himself up he caught sight of the chewing gum man’s face, lax and contentedly moving his jaws up and down in a manner further annoying for Jonathon. His phone buzzed with a text message from his wife. “Jonathon, you had better pull yourself together” He was getting a headache. As he walked down the carriage to the trolley he wondered if there was even any point to going to the meeting at all. He walked past a man pointing his camera at the window attempting to take photos of the rural scenery. Jonathon could have told him he would get nothing but the reflection of his own face in the pictures.

Jonathon sat back down with a pint of beer which he drank within 60 seconds. The roaring of chewing gum popping growing in his ear, now accompanied by a mobile phone walkman turned up too loud. As he took another long drink of whiskey, Jonathon’s bladder pressure became a point of immediate attention. He considered a walk to the toilet but noticed chewing gum man was already heading that way. His patience was running out, and throwing his head back against the seat he began to imagine what might happen if he strolled over there anyway. In the depths of his mind the chewing gum man smirked widely at him, and Jonathon made his mind up on the spot. He punched the gawking youth hard in the mouth and he face-planted the train floor. Jonathon watched the trees flash by in a content sort of manner, revelling in his day dream. Chewing gum man tried to pull himself up but Jonathon had him around the throat. He delivered another hard punch to the face and saw one of his teeth loosen sickeningly, but did not relent. The toilet flushed loudly at the back of the coach, jolting Jonathon back to reality, he swayed over there uneasily and stopped for a second to look at chewing gum man. To his great annoyance the youth looked back at him and smiled good naturedly. He had also spit his chewing gum out presumably in the bathroom. Jonathon held himself up in the bathroom and took a long time to fully relieve himself. After he had slumped back into his seat he found that the coach was almost completely devoid of noise. Taking a look around, he realised that the young man had finally plugged headphones into his mobile phone. The train rattled on and finally feeling peaceful, Jonathon slumped back in his seat.

Jonathon’s eyes opened abruptly. He was being shaken awake by the conductor who told him concernedly that they were at the end of the line, and now in London. Jonathon got off the train and walked into the dark empty station feeling a numb sense of panic and confusion. He had never seen Euston so quiet. After several minutes of consideration he walked out of the station and into the city with a reckless sense of disregard and an idea of cheap whiskey in a cheap bar. Needless to say, Jonathon missed his train back to Birmingham.