JIM MILLER
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This is a test

2/16/2025

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​I picked a seat near the door and stared out the window as the train moved out. It didn’t take long for the lights of the city to fade away leaving a black-glass hole of nothingness. It’d been a long time since I took a night train so I forgot how dark the dark could be. Out there, beyond the window, in the fields, sheep and cows are bedding down, dreaming of green pastures. Out there, in the woods, the predators and prey dance their dance. I heard and felt motion under my feet, but without visuals from the window, I can’t really know for sure what direction I'm going. Then rain started to slap the glass—adding its rhythm of brown noise to the night. 

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I closed my eyes, for just a moment, to enjoy the hypnosis of the ride. When I opened them, that guy was sitting across the aisle from me—looking at me. That guy from the station. That guy who caught my eye, that guy who intrigued me and creeped me out at the same time. A normal-looking bloke but then not normal. It’s hard to explain, but remember that two-picture-in-one thing you would get as a cereal box prize. It was plastic and when you look from one angle you see a smiling lady and when you look from the other you see a cat hanging from a tree limb. ​
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