During my time spent commuting back and forth I’ve discovered what a train really is. It’s a cell, a metal box that’s dragging me from one place to the next and while I’m on board I’m neither where I was, where I’m going or where I want to be. I’m somewhere in-between. Penned in and waiting. Always waiting.
My iPod died earlier and I’ve left my headphones in as a barrier against the outside world, in the hope that they’ll prevent the mundane from seeping in and infecting me. It’s not working, stupid people have the loudest voices.
Steve Campbell’s work has appeared in Sick Lit Magazine, Ad Hoc Fiction, Twisted Sister Lit Mag, and Occulum.