The Revelations

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The train clattered through the darkness. It was an old train and the carriages bucked and wheezed, struggling against the buffers that stopped them flying off into the night. The sea lay in shadows to the left; to the right was a thin strip of pale blue horizon, trees, and a mountain range that rose and fell, visible only by the sudden absence of light. On the left side now a refinery on the shore. Gas flares lit the water red and gold, gold and red. Mouse pressed his nose against the window and watched the flames dance upon the water.

He slid open the window and lit a cigarette; it burnt down quickly in the blast of rich, warm air that swept into the carriage. When the cigarette was finished he sent it spinning out into the night, following the small red spark as it was whipped away by the wind. It was now entirely dark outside the hurtling train. He stared into the blackness, past the chubby ghost of his reflection, thinking ahead to London, the Course and Lee. He reached into his bag, drew out his battered mobile phone and sent her a text, grinning as he typed.

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