The Train

It was a perfect autumn

afternoon in Pittston.  Elmer and Albert were taking their daily walk.  

“That freight train’s been passing through, precisely this time each day, since before World War I,” Albert said.

“Our parents, and grandparents, grew up with it.  It’s a legend.  Local folk even set their watches by it.

“That’s nice,” his friend said, “but I have a bit of a  problem with it.  We have no passenger trains, or other public transportation, anywhere near here.

“How is that bad?” Albert asked.

“For one thing,” Elmer moaned, ” I don’t have a car.”

Welcome back to ‘s Friday Fictioneers.  This week,

Dawn M. Miller provides our fab photo prompt.

21 thoughts on “The Train

    1. larry trasciatti says:

      It’s a real city~my mother was born and raised there~but I took certain liberties with details. He must be from one of the families that have simply always lived there. There really are only freight trains, none for passengers. I suppose he’ll have to do it your way and ask others for help.

      Liked by 1 person

  1. Kestril Trueseeker says:

    I grew in NJ, where every town seemed to be directly connected to the Garden State Parkway or Jersey Turnpike, the polar opposite situation to the one described. It’s interesting to think about what like might be like in those little towns. Cleaner, I’d expect.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. jillyfunnell says:

    They took away the trains in the UK in the sixties probably no branch lines any more. There was such commitment to the petrol engine back then and personal interests of those involved saw off our slow trains which were practical and delightful and kept people in contact with each other. A sad, amostpheric story.

    Liked by 1 person

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