On the Slow Train

Across the aisle from me a man who stood only a few inches taller than a Galapagos Finch singing sweeter songs of sorrow and salty sea water. Somehow, he had found a way to climb onto the slow train traversing the continent. He sat beside a giant, comparably, normal to the rest of us on the train. Out of the corner of my eye I observed him over the aisle way. He seemed lonely and fearful. Strangely enough, it seemed as if no one else could see this peculiar tiny man, not even the man next to him who’s nose was buried in a newspaper. As we hurdled forward, I gained a modicum of courage and asked the man where he was headed, his final destination. He said, wherever you are going, for I am you, I am your inner-voice and you’ve lost your direction. So, we are just going to head straight on these tracks today. Destination unknown, I suppose. Let’s think about that for a while. Moving forward is good, looking backwards only slows down progress. I said, I didn’t know I had a little man by my side, an inner-voice. Are you… human? As real as you need me to be, he said. I looked around and still, no one else had noticed me talking to my inner- voice. The little man then jumped over to me, across the aisle, crawled up my shirt sleeve and then directly into my ear canal for the rest of the trip. He whispered his companionship and then said, thank you for the lift. I gently nodded a welcome and thanks.