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Left Behind

The Christopher Troy Stories

christopher troy

He arrived alone on a sunless humid Thursday afternoon. The three-day journey left his body sore and his romantic notion of cross-country train travel slightly diluted, in large part because she hesitated in introducing herself sooner. And life (like trains) doesn’t wait for anyone.

There was no one to greet him when he got off, and while everyone was looking forward to the eager hugs and long-awaited kisses of loved ones, he looked back at the train that brought him to this point. The engine’s roar was no more than a weary purr now. The train cars were empty and lifeless, the last of its souls having descended onto the platform. And the heat emanating from the steel beast’s underbelly made it all seem like a wavy dream. Not seeing her anywhere confirmed this feeling.

He picked up his belongings – a simple tan rucksack resting against a corroded column behind…

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