I guess last summer’s wildfires, this spring’s floods, miscellaneous hurricanes and tornadoes, and finally mass shootings, not to mention the anniversaries of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, finally got to me. This one’s a dark response to a Six-Second Challenge posted by Denise on her GirlieOnTheEdge blog. The prompt this time is Fare. Maybe you’ll want to try something cheerier.

I’ve got my fare and just a trifle to spare,“ but this is no Chattanooga Choo Choo? I’ve paid through the end of the line, across the continent to the end of a world crunched off into the Pacific. I can barely see through the filthy train window but it doesn’t matter; there’s nothing to see. I didn’t even see them bury my family, didn’t know they were gone until two weeks after the funeral—all done while machines breathed for me. Too slow, I tried to cover them with my body. Now I have no home; no place to stop; nobody left; just endless motion.