Werld is mine

The first piece from my writing challenge.

Sometimes I try to imagine what it would feel like, if the dust were ever to settle. If for just one solitary moment I could focus on a single snapshot of the ever-spinning film reel playing behind my eyes. The results would surely be extraordinary. The problem doesn't lie in the quality of the images, every frame is crystal clear. It's just that millions can go flashing by in an instant. As if this place, my mind, isn't their destination at all but rather just something picturesque to look at through the carriage windows. 

Memories, plans, ideas and feelings all crammed together onboard, without a single ticket to be checked, travelling at light speed through my neurones. There was a time, when these tracks were allot younger and naive enough to think they could slow the parading beasts down, if even just to catch a little more than a lingering glimpse inside. This naivety was short-lived, there's only so many times a man can be outran before he begins to resent the legs that carry him. 

And so now, I stand here, watching a train disappear over one horizon as the next appears over the other. Never do they threaten to stop. I think the occupants are worried I would try to embark and leave this town. Although truthfully, I'm just chasing a particular feeling. Relief. I imagine her, waiting on board for me, dressed in purple and the proud owner of the only empty seat on board. I've seen her through the windows of my dreams many times. We'd greet each other like old friends and she'd disembark with me at the next stop, we'd take a slow walk back down the tracks to my town, not bothered by a single train the whole journey. 

"Welcome home" I'd say. "This Werld is mine"