Creeping through darkened towns

Trying to picture people, traffic, bustle

Its 2am but you’re not sleepy

The porter wants to make up the bed but you’d rather sit up

He mumbles something and returns to his own compartment to sleep

You leave a town and you’re back in the country

Dark other than mercury lights on barns, headlights in the distance

You’re sliding across America

Alone with your thoughts

Far from home

Far from her

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