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Kishishishishi~Here's the opening to a new story I started writing out of boredom.
The Train Come on in friend, sit a spell! Welcome aboard The Train! We take priests, outlaws and everyone in between! Hmm? Oh! Where are my manners? I've probably left you thinking "Who the hell is this guy and why should I care?" Well, as for me, I'm no one in particular. Just a stranger like you, riding the rails. As for that other part, well, I'm on of The Train's most valued customers. I know anything and everything about this jolly old caboose! If you've got a question, I'm the guy to talk to. What is The Train you say? Well if you didn't even know that much then why'd you get on the damn thing? The Train, my friend, is a giver. It is your guide and your guardian from here through the next place, wherever that may be. The Train appeared many years ago, during times no one even remembers no more. It was a tough time. People killed each other for nothing more than a few dollars and children choked on the mud beneath their feet. Then The Train came, and took all their troubles away. Sometimes them too! Like I said Jimmy, The Train is a giver. But it is also one hell of a taker. Everyone who boards The Train pays a price eventually, even if they don't realize it. That means you too, boy! Oh, relax! If the trip wasn't worth the price, nobody'd be boarding the metal motha, would they? Trust me, it'll be well worth the price once you jump off. See, this is a wanderer's train. Sort of a place for those who have no places left. It'll take you to god knows where and back, up and down and all around. And even then some. Some of the folks here have been ridin' 'fer years, waiting for the end of the trip. Now I know what you're thinking. How can a train that makes repeat stops have not finished its route by now? Well sonny Jim, the world is a large place. Larger than most know. Every last place the heart desires is a stop on The Train. And for we wanderers, we folks who yearn for nothing more than our next rest stop, the trip is infinitely longer than the life of any one man. See those two there? They been riding this thing for ages. Don't know what they're looking for, I suppose that's their business. All I know is that one fancies himself a scholar, and the other calls herself The Black Gun.
edited 3rd Nov '10 6:54:19 AM by KSPAM
When history changes...How very intriguing... *wishes he had a beard to stroke* I like it. It grabs you.
un monde libéré de la guerre est un monde exempt de frontières
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