The old train gushed through the overgrown swamp, somehow staying afloat, It’s once rich gold exterior had now become a dull greyish green. It emerged from the depths of a cosy house, positioned on a mountain top, the mist blocked out almost all of the sunshine and the humidity here was astonishing. Above the train was a watcher, It made sure the train reached it’s destination in time. The mist closed in and thickened the sky, The train lost control and went swerving of to the side,
Never to be seen again.
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