15 for 15 Contest --- Closed

Today, at noon, the colors faded from the world. I remember the time because I heard the train whistle blow in the distance, then I heard the bells chime the hour and when they had finished, I couldn’t remember how red felt or what blue tasted at the back of my throat.

I was in the train station when it happened, waiting for my train which would get there about two hours late (this time arrived at precisely 12:04), and depart (12:07) while I was clambering aboard. Not knowing the intricacies of such a schedule, I had arrived three hours before my scheduled departure, which had given me plenty of time to think.

The lack of color took me by surprise. I looked around, wondering what had happened, but noticed that no one else was paying the least attention. Of course, there is not much color in a train depot to begin with, but I had spent the last five hours trying to make sense of an intricate orange and green pattern to the tiles on the floor, particularly vile shades of both which had now faded to a uniform grey.

There were shabby men, women, and children around me, many of whom had no baggage at all. I felt conspicuous with my mountain of luggage. But I gripped my ticket and returned my gaze to the platform where the train was now appearing.

It was a much older train than I had expected. Steam poured from the engine and the cars were black except for the grey caboose. I maneuvered to the line waiting to board. I had devised a method for moving my mountain which involved the judicious use of my feet, and I was thus occupied to the limit of my attention. So I was surprised when it was finally my turn to board.

The conductor gave me a hand in and directed the porters to handle all. He bowed me aboard.

“Welcome aboard, fee please.” His smile seemed to have a few too many teeth.

I handed him my ticket as the train lurched forward, leaving a line of would be passengers on the platform.

He took the ticket and tore it in half. I was shocked, and tried to gather the pieces as they floated to the floor. “No fee, no exit.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your paper doesn’t matter.” He grasped my wrist with bone white fingers. “No one remembers the ferryman in your time, do they?”

It was then that I realized that under the rumble of the train, I could not feel my heartbeat.