The Carriage by Donna Page © 12/08/2021
Luxury is the only way she could explain it. On the inside, it looked like a first-class carriage on one of those trains across Europe.
She couldn't step backwards now, there were too many people behind her. They were all wanting to get on the train. But it was odd, no one was pushing, not like at Central. It was like everyone knew they would get a seat. She looked at the number of people behind her and then down the length of the outside of the carriage.
"No way," she thought "They aren't going to all fit"
The old lady gently placed her hand on her back and pushed. She stepped up into the carriage. It was a dining car, tables all laid out for food service. Silverware and napkins at each place. Beautiful wine glasses and china plates. She was sure that she had seen them somewhere before. She shook her head.
No, she couldn't have seen them before, the only place she knew about with a setting like this was in the cupboard at her mother's house. She had never really been allowed to touch it, it was old, really old.
As she walked towards the table she looked down the carriage. It seemed to go on and on. There was plenty of room for everyone that was pouring on behind her. She then realised that there was a lot of older people getting on the train. Each one with someone young, around her age.
It was then she noticed something, each table had beautiful table settings, but none of them matched hers. The table clothes were all different, all white, but some embroidered, some not. The glasses and plates, all different from her table. They all matched on their own table but not to hers, and not to the table next to them.
The chatter was getting louder as more and more people got on. She could not make out any of the conversations, it sounded like sitting in the cafe she had just left. A constant drone of noise and the occasional individual voice but she couldn't make out any actual words.
Suddenly there was a waiter pulling out her chair, putting a napkin on her lap and pouring her a glass of wine. He returned the bottle to the ice bucket and she read the label. It was her favourite. She realised that she wasn't surprised by this. She was beginning to expect unusual things.
A glass of wine was exactly what she needed right now. She picked up the glass as the old lady sat down.
"Be careful with that Dear, it's real crystal" The old lady smiled at her.
"I don't know who you are, but I feel like I should," she said "Why are you so familiar, I don't know anyone as old as you"
"Oh my Dear, I am older than you can ever realise, I know you have a lot of questions, but let us have dinner first"
"I do know you don't I, we have met before somewhere, I am sure of it," she said as she looked closely at the old ladies face for the first time "Who are you?"
"Dinner first, Dear, no questions on an empty stomach"
