We’ve talked a lot about eldritch lords on this blog, but how do you deal with eldritch trains?
Consider this scenario:
Gliding over the empty prairie of the dreamspace, feathery grass tips tickling your toes, a haunting, mournful wail sounds across the waves of brush and heather. Awakened to the dead night, sheets still promising the escaping kiss of sleep, you hear it.
Your soul shudders; the lonesome call of the forever train.
Out your bedroom window you can see the waving arms of the astral hobos perched on its eternal boxcars. From the engine room Tom Hanks and his best pal, the hawk faced Horus shout to you in unison.
We are all so small in the face of an infinite express train. The easiest thing in the world would be to take up that bindle you always keep under your bed and just go and go and go. Leave all your worries and cho-cho-choose to ride the rails of the in-betweens, not quite next to theres, and the nowhere at all places. Tom Hanks wants you to go, and that guy played Forrest Gump!
But you must not go.
What to do When the Forever Train Calls for You
There are two things to remember when the lonesome call of the forever train beckons you in the dead of night.
- Hold tight the brittle contours of your soul and think of how pitiful and pointless your existence is—the forever train is already lonesome, it yearns for boisterous, joyful revelers not some hollow-eyed, shell human.
- Tell Tom Hanks you forgot your ticket. He’s a real stickler about railway fare.
Spend the rest of the night in sleepless vigil for the souls already trapped upon the forever train. And never, never forget that whistle—