I just needed to get away for a while.
The train wasn’t the cheapest option, or the most expensive for that matter, but it felt like the right choice.
Maybe it sounded romantic.
And it was the only mode of transportation that didn’t require a set destination. I paid the highest listed price at the station and no one asked any questions.
There aren’t that many stops anymore, now that we’re so far from the city. Long stretches of trees line the tracks, the scenery hasn’t changed much.
I keep telling myself I’ll disembark at the stop that feels right.
So far none of them have.
And I can’t help wondering, in the back of my mind, how far the train might take me.
Photo by Carey Farrell. Text by Erin Morgenstern.
About flax-golden tales.