Do you want to live?

A Lodestar Gazette Prompt

The clock of St Giles was striking midnight as I hastened to the station. Henderson, the explorer, had detained me at my club, talking about his next grand scheme and now I was going to miss my train home.

Henderson was always full of these ideas, to explore this or that place. Often he vanished for weeks, reappearing with tales and curios from his latest expedition. Tonight he had claimed to have discovered a new realm.

When I asked him where it was located, he waved his arms around him. “It’s here,” he said, “all about us, separated by some sort of ether. Sometimes the barrier is thin and we can cross over to it.”

My initial thought was that it was nonsense. “Another realm, side by side with this? Best left alone,” I said, “some things are not meant to be tinkered with. Better the familiar than some nebulous alternative.”

“But, where is your sense of adventure?” he said. “I tell you this, I’ve seen the place, spent time there. It’s more than you could imagine.” He was insistent, his eyes sparkling, although that may have been from the copious quantities of spirit he had consumed and not from some messianic zeal.

“And you say it’s here, then why can I not see it myself?”

“It’s all around us, just on the edge of our sight. A realm like ours but subtly different.”

His enthusiasm for the notion was starting to intrigue me. In truth, my life was boring, my job, my home. All staid and smothering. Even Beatrice was starting to bore me.

“If that is so,” I asked, “then how can we get to it?”

“Ah,” he tapped the side of his nose with his forefinger, “that answer requires investment from you. Not just cash, although that would be useful. But belief, too. What I can tell you is that I will be going there myself, this very evening…,” He stopped talking, his eyes fixed on something behind me. He went very pale.

“What is it, man?” I asked.

“Nothing at all,” he said, forcing a smile, “think on it, just a small payment and an open mind are all that’s required. You can come with me.”

He staggered away in the direction of the easements and I looked behind me. Nobody was paying us any attention. I glanced at my timepiece, it was nearly midnight. I had to rush or I would not be going home to Beatrice for the weekend.

As I ran down the gaslit streets, his words stayed with me. Did I really want to remain here, or should I go with him? Perhaps I would ask him more about this place, the next time we met.

I was so intent on making my way across the square that I tripped on the greasy-wet cobbles and fell to the ground. As I landed with a bump, I heard the puff-puff of a steam engine from the other side of the wall that marked the station’s boundary.

Damnation, I had missed it. There was nothing else for it but to return to the club, perhaps there was a spare sophir that I could use for a few hours rest. With luck, Henderson had left and I would be spared his attentions. I felt the puddles starting to soak through my trousers and struggled to rise.

I felt strong hands picking me up. “Are you alright, sir?” asked my rescuer, a slight woman dressed in green clothes more suited to the farm than the city. She helped me to steady myself. “Can I assist you,” she asked. “Where are you going in such a rush?”

I was unused to such behaviour, the women in my world would not be out at this time of night unaccompanied, much less touch or converse with a man they did not know.

“I was going to catch my train, to Washworth,” I said, “but I fear it has departed.”

She shook her head, “your train awaits,” she said, “if you believe it does. Come.”

Her words were strange, they made no sense. Believe, she said, like Henderson had. Was it a coincidence, or something more? There was something about her, something intriguing. In a daze, I followed her. We walked together through the station’s portico, to a sight I had never beheld.

There must have been some revel in the town that night, these were the homeward-bound dregs, all dressed as countryfolk in greens and browns. They seemed to know my companion and clustered around us, bidding me a good morning.

In a phalanx, we passed through an arch I did not recognise and came to a platform bathed in moonlight. A long line of carriages stretched out ahead of me, with no engine in sight.

“This is your train, should you wish to take it,” said the girl.

“Does it go to Washworth?” I asked.

She laughed. “Is that the limit of your ambition for this life?”

I peered at the carriages. I could see many people inside, including one that I recognised. What was he doing here? How had he arrived before I had?

The door slid open “You decided to come with me, then,” said Henderson. “To leave all that behind you and live.”

I looked to my companions, watching in amazement as wings unfolded from their backs and they rose into the air.

“All aboard,” sang the train’s guard.

I’m Richard Dee and I write all sorts of stories. Find out more, join my mailing list and claim your free novella below

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