Mira had always found empty locations enticing. She adored how they whispered past secrets and how history gripped their falling walls. Thus, she had to see an ancient railroad station buried behind a thick tree line when she stumbled upon one.
A long way off, a whistle ripped through the silence just as she was going to turn back.
Mira's pulse raced. Turning toward the tracks, she gasped.
From the darkness appeared a gorgeous train shimmering like molten silver. It floated over rather than gliding over the rusted rails. Its wheels did not ever come into contact with the ground. The train's body appeared alive, changing colors as in a dream. Its side was covered in golden words "The Nowhere Express."
The doors opened with a hushed noise. A voice, not loud but, called to her:
"Everyone aboard."
Mira paused for thought. Logic shouted for her to run, but curiosity dragged her onward. She entered into the building.
A Journey Through the Impossible
The inside was magnificent. Stars floated on chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Made from velvet, the seats were embroidered with astral designs that glimmered in the low illumination.
Dressed in clothes from several periods—Victorian dresses, medieval tunics, and ahead bodysuits—passengers sat silently. Some muttered in unidentified languages; others gazed out the windows where the sky was not the same as Mira's.
Rather than the black night outside, the train raced by gold cities, upwards tumbling waterfalls, and midair islands. Mira pushed against the window, unable to believe her eyes.
Approaching her was a man dressed as an old-fashioned train driver. His name tag read "Mr. Orion.'
With a knowing smile, he said, “You have to be new.”
Mira asked: "Where are we going?"
"Where do you wish to go?" he responded.
Mira hesitations. She considered everywhere she had fantasized of seeing—the end of the universe, the hanging gardens of Babylon, Atlantis' lost capital. Might this train actually transport her everywhere?
Right before she could reply, a faint ticking came upon the air. That was from a great, decorated clock in the middle of the train. Mira saw something odd: it only had symbols; there were no numbers. One of the symbols was fading also.
The conductor frowned "Ah, we have an issue."
The Puzzle of the Clockwork Heart
The train moved on the Clockwork Heart, Mr. Orion said. It drove the train's enchantment, which kept it on track across the uncharted terrain. But the heart was breaking; the symbols on the clock were disappearing one by one.
He said, "The train will be permanently lost if the last symbol vanishes." "We will have no past, no future, no destination. Just nowhere."
Mira felt tight in her stomach. "Will it be possible to fix?"
He acknowledged: "There is a way." “But it is something that only a passenger can do.”
She turned her eyes about. Nobody else appeared to observe the vanished icons. It definitely had to be hers.
The Key to Everything
Leading Mira to the front of the train, Mr. Orion showed her the enormous golden chest under the clock. He said, "The key is within this chest." “However, it will only open if one question is answered.””
Mira smiled, nodded. "What is the matter?"
The hands of the clock stopped moving. The whole train shook. The windows darkened and the stars outside seemed to blink out.
Deep, old, strong voice came from the heart:
"Where really do you fit?"
Mira's hand fluttered. The reaction ought to have been obvious. She adored traveling, investigating, and discovering fresh places. Yet… really, did she belong anywhere?
She shut her eyes to go home. Everything was not simply a spot, but the sensation of warmth, laughter, and acquaintances.
She whispered, "Where my heart is," Opening her eyes.
There was a click open in the chest. Inside sat a small, bright gear. Mira grabbed it, and the train screamed into motion. The marks on the clock came back :) The stars outside reappeared.
The Nowhere Express had been rescued.
The Final Stop
As the train slowed, Mr. Orion grinned. He told me: "You have done well." Every road conversely comes to an end.
The doors swung open. Mira turned up back at Midnight Junction. The train was gone as though it had never been present.
She gazed at her hand down. That glowing gear had become a tiny silver timepiece pendant. A reminder that the trip had indeed been authentic.
Strolling away, she picked a known whistle in the far distance.
The Nowhere Express would be waiting endlessly.
One day she will ride it once more.