I was on the train back from Pennsylvania and it was full so I pushed through to the bar car. Not the café car, but an actual bar with wooden seats and people sitting there. It was full, too, but I found a place at the very front as the bar car was in front of the engine. The walls were made of something translucent. and I could make out the urban landscape I'm used to seeing as I travel.
I sat there wondering what I'd even done that week in Pennsylvania, as I had no memory. I dismissed this, though, as I've been going up so often these days. The train stopped to switch engines like always but something was different. For some reason, we were actually in Manassas and not Union Station so I got off to look around.
There was no announcement when the train departed and I watched at it moved southwest toward home. I didn't panic, and figured I would just catch the next one. So I walked through the station which was much larger than the one in real life. I found the ticket counter which was about to close and waited.
That was about it, really. It felt more real than my actual life which consists of staying home and working and waiting to go back to Pennsylvania. When I am here, there is nothing but work and that is by choice. Everywhere I look here is covered in memory and detail, and I can't just relax and enjoy myself.
Maybe I can find a ticket counter in real life that can help me.
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