Today’s word is train. I have a train of thought and it’s not that easy to derail it. I’m on a cast or characters. Well, you know what I mean. I have to write train over and over. I am going to train to learn something new. That’s the ticket! What other trains are there? Well, the high speed ones!
We train the mind to see. We train the mind to ask “what if…”, we condition the mind to regard what is not only not there, but what if any meaning does a thing, a place, an being possess.
180
It was a cold day, nothing out of the ordinary in Manitoba. The train station was unusually quiet today, not very busy. When the train had arrived I took my bags with me and went to my cabin, ready to await the long 33 day journey across the country. Who knows how long I’ll be gone, but until then, I’ll be but a whisper among a thousand others.
Cole Spencer
He stole a dream. Decided to train and then carry it out unbenknownst the original owner until the forgery had been successfully faked. He tried at least. Anything to grab the attention of the impulsive creature from whom he jacked the vision.
It was stupid. A million ways to do it and he chose the worst of all of them. Imitation would not be taken as flattery. Imitation would be seen as shots fired.
Cotton
They trained them to be assassins. But one resisted. A defect in the code, I suppose. So here I sit waiting with a scope. To do my duty where others fail: I learn to overcome.
Machine Learning
How weird is my thought pattern. It wantsers off on a path of its own… meandering through all the horribly embarrassing memories that I keep behind the Wall. You know the Wall. We all, have one. But my Trojan of thought is more like a JCB. It just ploughs straight through, crushing the rubble and driving the dust into waves. But, as always happens, when the dust settles…. we’ll, there you are. Those moments you have been wrapping up in heavy duty bin bags for the last decade or so, exposed to the light. The light of today. Which , like a pair of shoulder pads from the 80’s, doesn’t quite cast the right mood on them. Oops. It all gets a bit messy.
Debbie
The sound of whistles filled the air as I stepped off the platform. A young couple sat on a bench looking forlorn, two full suitcases nearby. So far away from them, I walked the other way.
Jacob
More often than I’d like to admit, my train of thought drifts to you as I’m trying to go to sleep. Hey, you, you thinking of me, too?
whatever_artemesia
I was training the new trainee on how to properly conduct himself as a new train conductor. While I was explaining how he would always have to keep his eyes trained on the tracks ahead I noticed the train of cars stuck on the tracks at the up coming crossing. With my cross trainers laced up and ready I sprinted to the lever for the horn and let out 5 loud alerts that we were coming.
Kristian Pierce
I would love to travel the west coast by train. I’ve always thought it would be fun to have a room on a train and spend a few days taking in the sights.
okayfine
She heard the noise in the distance, but couldn’t see the train. “Where is that?”
“Behind the trees over there, probably,” he shrugged, “They come through a lot.”
The train rattled along the train tracks in the dark. The only light was coming from the train’s two dim headlights. Five passengers sat in the lonely train, each occupied with his own business. In a flash, the train stopped and three men in black masks got on, each holding a gun
Ru Yi
The clock on the mantle ticks as the candles flicker in and out of their mirrored reflections. Yet it’s a “steam” that rolls up into the fireplace and out the chimney into the wind. Seems it’s what’s transfixed in mid air – the spectacle. A stab in the direction of absurdity. A train. A locomotive. Suspended there in the hearth, the tunnel. My word, the surrealist mess we’re living in when everything feels so phallic it’s like I need to change the channel.
Apple Cheeks
This is what we call the Gravy Train. It takes us past the small towns and the barren plains. It rips through the metropoli and lands us where the spotlights shine halos in a God forsaken sky. The hotels serve champagne under the moon’s gilded eye. You and I toast to good fortune. We won our tickets in a competition, and of our own volition, we dressed in sequins and, giggling all the way, boarded the sneering Gravy Train.
Belinda Roddie
She reached the wreck. Many people sat on the sides of the track. Some were bleeding profusely. She could see some lying around unmoving. Well, her task would be the ones she could not see yet, the ones still on the train, she was a fire fighter after all.
Fran Hunne
I here the train a comiin around the bend he sings. But he doesn’t hear anything except the sadness of loss, and the pain of money. He has nothing. Oh of course he has everything anyone could ever want, money in the bank, three beautiful children, but the girl of his dreams, he let her get away, and as much as she should have been better he knew it was his fault. If anything else it was a train wreck, and speaking of which, he wondered if there would be a train ride to Jackson.
Braxton
She waited for the whir of the tracks to fade. It was time. She darted across and grabbed the freshly crushed penny. It was still hot. She grinned, bringing it back to her friends, victorious.
Beth
i lived near a railroad where trains came by every few hours . There were passenger trains, coal trains, and trains with boxcars caring all sorts of things. I once got on a stopped train. It took me to a small creek and I jumped off. NEVER DO THAT AGAIN>
The trains had a sound that in the winter when the wind blew had a eerie sound.
In the summer I would get as close to the train track as I could. I once put a penny on the track and when the train came it ran over the penny. I found the penny. NOT TO BE RECOGNIZED!!!!
I can go on and on about trains. It was a part of my life. I miss the trains now …the sound in the distant of the train whistle. It will be a pleasant reminder on days that I get stopped by a train. I get to watch the box cars as they go by …wondering what and where they are gooing.
Lynette B Hanson
Getting on the train, I sealed away my fate. There was no turning back now. As I crossed the threshold of the inside of the train car, I sighed deeply. I had to do this. Sitting in the couch cushion seat, I looked around for a sign that I was doing what was right.
Today’s word is train. I have a train of thought and it’s not that easy to derail it. I’m on a cast or characters. Well, you know what I mean. I have to write train over and over. I am going to train to learn something new. That’s the ticket! What other trains are there? Well, the high speed ones!
We train the mind to see. We train the mind to ask “what if…”, we condition the mind to regard what is not only not there, but what if any meaning does a thing, a place, an being possess.
It was a cold day, nothing out of the ordinary in Manitoba. The train station was unusually quiet today, not very busy. When the train had arrived I took my bags with me and went to my cabin, ready to await the long 33 day journey across the country. Who knows how long I’ll be gone, but until then, I’ll be but a whisper among a thousand others.
He stole a dream. Decided to train and then carry it out unbenknownst the original owner until the forgery had been successfully faked. He tried at least. Anything to grab the attention of the impulsive creature from whom he jacked the vision.
It was stupid. A million ways to do it and he chose the worst of all of them. Imitation would not be taken as flattery. Imitation would be seen as shots fired.
They trained them to be assassins. But one resisted. A defect in the code, I suppose. So here I sit waiting with a scope. To do my duty where others fail: I learn to overcome.
How weird is my thought pattern. It wantsers off on a path of its own… meandering through all the horribly embarrassing memories that I keep behind the Wall. You know the Wall. We all, have one. But my Trojan of thought is more like a JCB. It just ploughs straight through, crushing the rubble and driving the dust into waves. But, as always happens, when the dust settles…. we’ll, there you are. Those moments you have been wrapping up in heavy duty bin bags for the last decade or so, exposed to the light. The light of today. Which , like a pair of shoulder pads from the 80’s, doesn’t quite cast the right mood on them. Oops. It all gets a bit messy.
The sound of whistles filled the air as I stepped off the platform. A young couple sat on a bench looking forlorn, two full suitcases nearby. So far away from them, I walked the other way.
More often than I’d like to admit, my train of thought drifts to you as I’m trying to go to sleep. Hey, you, you thinking of me, too?
I was training the new trainee on how to properly conduct himself as a new train conductor. While I was explaining how he would always have to keep his eyes trained on the tracks ahead I noticed the train of cars stuck on the tracks at the up coming crossing. With my cross trainers laced up and ready I sprinted to the lever for the horn and let out 5 loud alerts that we were coming.
I would love to travel the west coast by train. I’ve always thought it would be fun to have a room on a train and spend a few days taking in the sights.
She heard the noise in the distance, but couldn’t see the train. “Where is that?”
“Behind the trees over there, probably,” he shrugged, “They come through a lot.”
The train rattled along the train tracks in the dark. The only light was coming from the train’s two dim headlights. Five passengers sat in the lonely train, each occupied with his own business. In a flash, the train stopped and three men in black masks got on, each holding a gun
The clock on the mantle ticks as the candles flicker in and out of their mirrored reflections. Yet it’s a “steam” that rolls up into the fireplace and out the chimney into the wind. Seems it’s what’s transfixed in mid air – the spectacle. A stab in the direction of absurdity. A train. A locomotive. Suspended there in the hearth, the tunnel. My word, the surrealist mess we’re living in when everything feels so phallic it’s like I need to change the channel.
This is what we call the Gravy Train. It takes us past the small towns and the barren plains. It rips through the metropoli and lands us where the spotlights shine halos in a God forsaken sky. The hotels serve champagne under the moon’s gilded eye. You and I toast to good fortune. We won our tickets in a competition, and of our own volition, we dressed in sequins and, giggling all the way, boarded the sneering Gravy Train.
She reached the wreck. Many people sat on the sides of the track. Some were bleeding profusely. She could see some lying around unmoving. Well, her task would be the ones she could not see yet, the ones still on the train, she was a fire fighter after all.
I here the train a comiin around the bend he sings. But he doesn’t hear anything except the sadness of loss, and the pain of money. He has nothing. Oh of course he has everything anyone could ever want, money in the bank, three beautiful children, but the girl of his dreams, he let her get away, and as much as she should have been better he knew it was his fault. If anything else it was a train wreck, and speaking of which, he wondered if there would be a train ride to Jackson.
She waited for the whir of the tracks to fade. It was time. She darted across and grabbed the freshly crushed penny. It was still hot. She grinned, bringing it back to her friends, victorious.
i lived near a railroad where trains came by every few hours . There were passenger trains, coal trains, and trains with boxcars caring all sorts of things. I once got on a stopped train. It took me to a small creek and I jumped off. NEVER DO THAT AGAIN>
The trains had a sound that in the winter when the wind blew had a eerie sound.
In the summer I would get as close to the train track as I could. I once put a penny on the track and when the train came it ran over the penny. I found the penny. NOT TO BE RECOGNIZED!!!!
I can go on and on about trains. It was a part of my life. I miss the trains now …the sound in the distant of the train whistle. It will be a pleasant reminder on days that I get stopped by a train. I get to watch the box cars as they go by …wondering what and where they are gooing.
Getting on the train, I sealed away my fate. There was no turning back now. As I crossed the threshold of the inside of the train car, I sighed deeply. I had to do this. Sitting in the couch cushion seat, I looked around for a sign that I was doing what was right.