“On a serious note, I was wonderin’ why we are all here, in dis train. Thoughts?”
Bones leans forward slightly so that the single, bare light bulb catches his thin face. I realize that I haven’t heard him speak yet. He looks down shyly, and says, “I reckon we came here for a reason. I can’t remember what happened beforehand. All I know is, I was at a train stop, with a ticket in my hand. I had never seen it before, yet I knew what it was for, and that it marked my moving onwards.”

“Movin’ onwards from what?” Rummy asks, puzzled.

“Life,” Bones says simply.
We sit quietly for a moment, pondering this. It makes sense; the pain, the dust, the train stop, the ticket. The loss of memory. I wonder how it came to be like this – how I came to be like this. It had felt as though I had awoken in my body, amidst the whirlwinds of dust and sand. The first thing that had come to my mind was emptiness, and that scared me. I had stood with my trunk and handbag, a minute, half an hour, a full hour, waiting for someone to show up. To tell me that this was all a joke, that I was dreaming. But no one had come, and eventually I had realized I was alone. I could tell I was at a train stop, with all the luggage behind me. It had seemed lost as well, a symbol of somebody else’s forgotten past and disregarded thoughts. The ticket was the other clue – I had felt it’s sharp corners through my thin skirts. Curious, I had pulled it out and read the black inscription on it.

I had understood what was happening, that I was moving onward, but I hadn’t thought about where I came from yet.
“So’s di some kinda purgatory or somethin’?” Fedora asks, breaking the silence.
“Depends on where we’re going.” Arnie says sagely.