I am going on a long journey by train.  As I begin, the city skyscrapers and country landscape look familiar.  As I continue my journey, the view reminds me of times gone by and I feel relaxed and comfortable. The other passengers on the train appear to be feeling the same way and I engage in pleasant conversation with them.

As the journey progresses, things begin to look different.  The buildings have odd shapes, and the trees don’t look quite the way I remember them. I know that they are buildings and trees, but something about them is not quite right. Maybe I’m in a different country with different architecture and plant life. It feels a bit strange, even unnerving.

I decide to ask the other passengers about the strangeness I feel, but I notice that they seem unperturbed. They are barely taking notice of the passing scenery.  Maybe they have been here before.  I ask some questions, but nothing seems different to them.  I wonder if my mind is playing tricks on me.  I decide to act as if everything looks all right but because it does not, I must be on guard.  This places some tension on me, but I believe I can tolerate it for the remainder of the trip.  I do, however, find myself becoming so preoccupied with appearing all right that my attention is diverted from the passing scenery.

After some time, I look out the window again, and this time I know that something is wrong.  Everything looks strange and unfamiliar!  There is no similarity to anything I can recall from the past.  I must do something.  I talk to the other passengers about the strangeness I feel.  They look dumbfounded and when they answer, they talk in a new language. Why won’t they talk in English, I wonder? They look at me knowingly and with sympathy.  I’ve got to get to the bottom of this, so I keep after them to tell me where the train is and where it is going.  The only answers I get are in this strange language, and even when I talk, my words sound strange to me.  Now I am truly frightened.

At this point, I figure that I have to get off this train and find my way home.  I had not bargained for this when I started. I get up to leave and bid a pleasant good-bye. I don’t get very far, though, as the other passengers stop me and take me back to my seat.  It seems they want me to stay on the train whether I want to or not. I try to explain by they just talk in that strange language.

Outside the window the scenery is getting even more frightening. Strange, inhuman-looking beings peer into the window at me. I decide to make a run for it.  The other passengers are not paying much attention to me, so I slip out of my seat and quietly walk toward the back of the car.  There’s a door! It is difficult to push, but I must. It begins to open and I push harder. Maybe now I will get away.  Even though it looks pretty strange out there, I know I will never find my way home if I do not get off the train.  I am just ready to jump when hands suddenly appear from nowhere and grab me from behind.  I try to get away.  I try to fight them off, but I can feel them pulling me back to my seat.

How sad I feel.  I did not say good-bye to my friends or children.  As far as I know they do not know where I am.  The passengers look sympathetic, but they do not know how sad I feel.  Maybe if they knew they would let me off the train.  I stop smiling, stop eating, stop trying to talk and avoid looking out the window.  The passengers look worried.  They force me to eat.  It is difficult because I am too sad to be hungry.

I realize now that I will never get off this train; I will never get home.