Moers stood underneath the dirty lamp, snowflakes passing underneath it's grimy rays and landing with a delicate touch on the ground around him. It had just started to snow as he stood on the concrete platform waiting for the South Shore interurban. Lackawana station lacked life and certainly a roof. He was returning home after a night out with the guys in town celebrating his friend Dawson's engagement to his childhood sweetheart Linda. Moers chuckled underneath his scarf, the heat of his breath freezing before his face. He waited for another ten minutes when the earth began to shake beneath him. The yellow interurban car appeared in the distance, the headlamp casting a harsh glow about the platform. It slid past Moers and the doors creaked open. He stepped on board and deposited his ticket. The doors closed and the car slid into the night.
He awoke to the sound of bells. Not like church bells, but like a harsh apartment doorbell sort of bell. It was the motorman's station signal waking passengers who needed to get off here. As it pulled into the station, Moers read the sign of the city and uttered out of nowhere, "Who the fuck lives here in Godawful, Minstone, Illinois?" A thin, young man wearing thick glasses stopped right by him, and stared at him. He sat down rather than continuing onto the exits. Moers could feel a sense of hatred radiating from this man as he stared at Moers intentely. He stood once again and started for the door. The light brown of his over coat was dirty around the hem, probably from walking through the streets of Chicago. But the doors shut too soon and he was stopped short of the door and the train lurched forwards again. Moers suddenly felt uncomfortable as the man walked back towards him. He sat right behind Moers and placed his leather case on the chair to his side. Moers peered in between the chairs and tried to glance at the man. His features were youthful and light, but seeming out of place with the thick plastic glasses and frumpled hair.
Moers sat up and turned around. "I take back what I said about Minstone." he said. The man looked back up at him and only uttered two words. "Fuck You." Moers turned back uncomfortably towards his seat. The lights hissed out for a second before flickering back on. Moers peered back again, but this time, the man was gone. The conductor walked past and Moers grabbed his arm. "Where did the guy go that was behind me?" "What man? There is only you and the lady on the train. No one else. No one's gotten on since you." Moers sat forward again and buried his head into his hands.