Trains Rl Balladrael by R.l. Balladrael instant download after payment.
<p>I have spent my entire life on trains. I’m not sure if it’s a life or an afterlife, because I never seem to get anywhere and nobody seems to notice me. I have no home, no money, and only one outfit. I’ve never used a private bathroom. I don’t remember my childhood or if I was ever any younger than I am now. I don’t think I have ever given birth to any children myself. I would probably remember that if it had happened.</p>
<p>The trains come and go at a convenient speed for me to avoid getting caught. Here’s how it works: after getting off the last train, I dart about the station, staying in the shadows and back hallways, and occasionally stealing food and water from the little shops lit with yellow lights. When the next train comes, I stay hidden in the crowd until the train starts to pull away. Then I run and leap up onto one of the open cars. There are only ever two kinds of cars on trains: closed cars, for people with fancy tickets, and open cars, which are just platforms of seats open to the wind and rain. The ticket collector never checks the open cars. I know I have to keep moving to keep ahead of the people who are chasing me. I’m not sure why they are chasing me but I know if they ever catch up, I might end up on the tracks.</p>
<p>The first time I see Steven it is a cloudy day with bright light pouring through the glass dome that forms the roof of this station. I leap onto an open car and turn and see someone as bedraggled as myself, except handsome instead of beautiful. He seems to know we are the same and looks surprised.</p>
<p>“Who are you?” he says.</p>
<p>“I tell people my name is Sandy but I don’t really know what it is,” I say.</p>
<p>“Steven,” he says. He has sharp eyes, the kind that don’t miss much, and a mouth that looks like it’s smiling at the world—with mockery or amusement or both.</p>
<p>That is it. The station where I leave Steven is a
