Fading Reveries: The Last Train Home

It moves without sound, a flicker of light slicing through the dusk. No stations, no passengers—just the hum of motion, the quiet pull of something unseen.

Some say it carries forgotten dreams, looping through the night with nowhere left to arrive. Others swear they have seen figures in the windows, their faces familiar but just out of reach.

Maybe it was always meant to leave. Maybe it was never meant to stop.

Either way, it vanishes before the morning comes.