Start your story with someone looking out a train window.
Posted in Middle School on Nov 1, 2022
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✍️ 99 stories
“SOUTHBOUND” by David Sweet
SOUTHBOUNDby David M. SweetDoralea looked out the window of the southbound train. Mid-October leaves dappled the Kentucky hillsides in fiery oranges and burning reds, dull yellows and rusty browns with a few evergreens peaking through the canopies. Colors were made even more vivid by the morning sun and clear, blue sky. Flaxen sedge grass along with green tangles of weeds, brambles, and even a few autumn flowers blurred together as she shifted her gaze downward toward the edges of fields and fence rows ...
“Baking up Trouble” by Graham Kinross
TW: Hints at sexual assault, swearing.Yellow light reflects off the window as I watch my station disappear in the subway tunnel. Blackness turns into the bright light of a train heading the other direction. I think of my little girl, Tina, with her mother, Billie. Be a better man. No more powers. No risking your freedom. I try not to make eye contact with any...
“Your last journey ” by Jennifer Cameron
I wish I could tell them to stop worrying now, because this really is quite nice. It’s more peaceful, it’s more me, I think whilst staring out the recently cleaned window at mountain peaks coated in mist and marshmallow clouds. They all cried when I died, those great big sobs that seem to take over your whole body and I guess it was nice in a selfish sort of way to know that I’ll be missed but it still felt like all th...
“Familiar Strangers” by Edward Latham
Home. It’s that place where you release the breath you didn’t even realise you were holding. The place where you sleep as deep as you did when you were ten years younger. The place where you let go of your future worries and relax into the present.For Harry Tufton home was the 18:05 train from London Bridge to Brighton. The journey was just over an hour and occasionally, when the world weighed too heavy, he would fall fast asleep. His stop was the last, so no worries there. More often though, he would sit, appearing...
“At a Second Glance” by Rama Shaar
It wasn’t so much disgust as it was curiosity mixed with shock. My fault really for allowing eye contact. I once heard that human beings are usually aware of being watched even from behind. Something to do with our primal survival instinct and so. I do allow myself to stare at beautiful people, but for no longer than four or five seconds, which is usually the time it takes them to realise they’re being stared at.I quickly lowered my gaze and hoped that the train would move, leaving behind the angelic-featured young woman...
“Finding Myself Among the Dough” by Jeannette Miller Mickenham
As I stare out of my window seat, I’m trying to memorize the lines of cobblestone road leading up to the train’s platform. The blue sky, its bluest since I arrived here seven days ago under the pretense of finding myself. Every cloud a whisper of its self, promising to be something full and billowy but never materializing then slowly dissipating into thin whisps of white. I hear the noise of the city calling me a...
“Back” by Milena Todorova
Rails, buildings, smaller buildings, trees, grass, fences, dots, longer dots, dragging lines, all moving faster and faster into a blurry running-away foxtrot. Leaving Vienna Central Station. Mel closed her eyes to lose the dizzy image and laid her head back into the cosy seatback. Coffee. She hoped the smell was more than a false brain trigger to her nose. She had slept enough and still felt sleepy. And ...
“Last Train To Davos” by P. T. Golden
The grime on the glass from a thousand greasy fingers distorted the dismal scene outside. "Can you believe people used to breathe that stuff? It's so thick I can't see; that is a city, isn't it?" Thomas spoke to nobody in particular.The woman in the aisle seat wiped the sweat from under her numerous chins and grunted, pointing at a red dot moving along a line displayed on a digital map. Paris, it said. Faint shadows hide in a dark thick swirling smog."Have you ever been there? I heard it was beautiful o...
“Encounter on a Train” by Kelly Johnson
*This story contains multiple sensitive themes: Mental heath/PTSD, and graphic details of an auto accident*Pitch black night; that's all I can see through the glass. I can hear bullets of rain hammering against the window, but all I can see is dark, endless nothing. I close my eyes, and try to focus on the subtle click-clack of train tracks. At first, all I hear is the assaulting rain. A man with a gray beard snoring in the seat in front of mine, gray hat with a silvery white feather tipped precario...
“Seven Days to Know You” by Caroline Conner
Staring out the window of the train, Sammie observed the scenery as it rushed by. It was early fall, the ideal time to be traveling through North Carolina. Though she had not been many places in the world, she doubted anything was as beautiful as the fiery shades of red and orange draped over the trees outside. Try as she might to enjoy it, a glumness now clung to her. Only a couple hours into her trip on her way...
“The Passenger Train to Love” by Greg Gillis
Steven gazed spellbound out the window at the blurs of trees, hydro poles, and rail markers as they raced past his window while he sat in the dining car of the Amtrak train from Chicago to St. Louis. When he left Union Station in Chicago at 7:15am, the sun was just beginning to rise over the eastern horizon. Steven had one thing on his mind, to locate the one ...
“Wrong Track - Right Track” by Murray Burns
Wrong Track – Right TrackI’m not sure this is what Mr. Zamzow had in mind when he told the class, “For very action, there is an equal and opposite reaction”; I got on the train- she didn’t.The pressure to excel, to succeed, to someday arrive at the Promised Land of wealth, power and position. Surely this could not be vanquished by a high school romance. It seemed like love, but my Dad warned me all about “puppy love”. In this day and age, the odds of a teenage romance maki...
“Orphan Train” by Brenda Wilson
Two little eyes and a frown. I draw these onto the fogged-up window as the train chugs into the tunnel. My four-year-old sister, Kate, is asleep on my leg, drooling all over my only clean dress. I want to wake her up. I want to be mad at her for soiling the last thing Mama gave me—the last thing she ever will. But I don’t have the strength. Papa said everything will be alright now. We’d be sa...
“The Journey Towards Self Love” by Audrey Harmon
They call them patchwork hills. Rolling, misshapen, vibrant as the stock photo shown on my laptop’s background. Each time I take out my Iphone 4 to snap a photo, I’m disappointed. There is no way to capture this passing beauty but to look at it in wonder. That hardly seems fair. We’re on our way to Cornwall, England to sing and make music for the locals. Almost everyone on this train was a stranger up until one week ago, when this overseas program began. We’ve been in transit for over four hours, but I feel as though I could...
“The Missing Piece ” by Emily Phillips
As I sit, filled with grief and despair, looking out the window of a train that is no longer moving, I can sense danger all around me. I feel the sudden urge to jump, jump out the window, jump off the train, jump anywhere and see where the wind takes me. Did I always feel this alone. I once had a loving husband, children, and a life that most would be envious of. But now, as I sit looking out of this tra...
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