A Train Story

Under hypnosis, the girl somehow found her contact-lenses’ case in her bag and automatically took off her lenses.

Everything around her suddenly disappeared, even that man. She did not understand anything– she was very confused, and the situation was frightening. Iris pulled away. Outside, there was traffic, orange cones were lying on the street, and the road was closed because of construction. Around the Hudson Bay, there were blankets of homeless people. At first, she thought that nothing had changed. A few seconds later, she noticed that there was not a living soul around.

A sign with the name of a café was swaying by the wind. Cring. Cring. Cring.

“What's going on?” She screamed! “What's going on?” Iris was consumed with madness.

The man that she met a few minutes ago showed up in front of her.

“We are now in 2050, the year people like to talk about in 2020. Everyone is afraid of global warming and the pollution of our planet, which will destroy everything. However, what you see in front of you isn’t the consequence of global warming, but the result of political problems. Biological weapons have killed everyone on this planet.”

He gave her a mirror.

“Do I also have two pupils?!” The girl exclaimed. “I can’t stomach any more of this!”

“Yes, you have two, but before you weren’t able to see them. This phenomenon is known as polycoria. Now, as you are aware of your special characteristic, you would have to learn how to use properly your eyes. Iris, you are not from this planet. You were sent on the Earth as a punishment!”

The girl shook her head; she was not surprised at all. It was a liberating thing to realize who she actually was. Since childhood, it seemed to her that she was from another planet. In primary school, her peers bullied her, because she was different from her classmates. She was never influenced by others and never ran with the crowd. For a long time, it was difficult for her to find friends. The little girl cried and told her mother that she felt like she was from another planet; she was lonely and had trouble with socializing.

“How did I get here? Why did you decide to find me only now?”

“The monarch of our planet expelled you in 1350. You were openly saying that you wanted to change the political system. You had a lot of followers that were supporting you. The monarch was afraid of a rebellion, so, at first, he wanted to execute you, but I tried to convince him not to do that. I knew that it is not worth killing someone like you. He got very angry and hurt you in the side; that’s why you have a scar on your body. In the end, he expelled you and sent to the Earth. You were born again in the early 2000s without remembering your past life. Society needs you more than ever, and that’s why I decided to find you. You are stronger than you think, and you are able to change some dangerous upcoming events.

Iris managed to keep a straight face, but, in reality, she was very excited, even she did not fully believe the men. The light of combat was present in her eyes. Suddenly, she saw three familiar people. They were sitting at a table eating ice cream.

“In 2050, these three people wouldn’t be there anymore, because, in 2020, they will make a big mistake that will affect their lives. You must address the issue before it is too late”.

“Why do you think that I can change something?!” the girl asked. She knew these people very well, and she was aware of problems they had in their lives. How can she help them? She hasn't talked to them for a long time. There was her friend, who betrayed her, her neighbor that frightened her brother when he was small, and the best friend of an important person in her life.

“You can't change them, but you can influence their life. You know more about people than you think, and you need to analyze situation. Think logically.” The man disappeared.

“It was more than just an illusion!” thought Iris.

She put on the lenses and saw the world as it was before. People were walking with their masks, and friends were laughing while happy couples enjoyed the Friday evening. The girl was terrified; she was carrying the weight of people’s lives; this was the punishment of the monarch. Maybe it was not a punishment, but rather an incredible opportunity to give many people a second chance.

A heavy rain began, and the girl ran into the subway…

A Train Story Miguel Cano Gallo

It was dense. Dark mist rested on our heads with a soft delicacy while we were invaded by the overwhelming silence.

Sitting there, unable to see beyond the cracking sound of rusted rails, my partner and I were waiting for the train that would take us to our final destination (or so I thought).

Between the silence and the cold night’s atmosphere, our only source of sanity was a silent, meaningful (or insignificant?) conversation that was sustained with the passing of a bottle of wine, an exchange of lived experiences that did not require words.

A silent, calm, immutable talk in which the narration was the passing of the bottle: the speaker passes the bottle, the receiver drinks from it, and the roles are then exchanged.

The subtlety of the discussion was born in the versatility of the argument, and how it went from speaker to receiver in a matter of seconds without testing or questioning the speaker's position.

The conversation was humble (at times), expressive (sporadically), but these were adjectives without importance, as the true value of the exchange was present in the elegant understanding that we both had of the subject (drinking), and the persuasiveness that we both had in order to convince the other to drink from the bottle.

The discreet and elegant exchange was, however, interrupted by the already-mentioned train, whose sole purpose was to take us to our respective inns. The oppressive

silence was violated and overwhelmed by the deafening sound of the rails, intensified by the train breaking into the station.

Suddenly, there it was, the train, present between the already dissipated fog, and posing above the corpse of the already dead silence. I helped my companion, already touched by the wine, stand, and, subsequently, with our suitcases and wine in hand, we boarded. The long absence of tangible words was then broken by him, in an attempt to start a common, absurd, and empty dialogue: -Did you like it? He asked me, referring to the little meeting that brought us together to that point in the night. -It was good, I think, the wine within me exclaimed, making me engage in a conversation that now disgusted me. -Good? It was excellent! - Yes, but the food was mediocre, and I think something hurts, I said, with now-perceptible indifference. -I suppose… my friend answered, finally killing that unpleasantly trivial conversation that he forced me to partake in.

For reasons that I do not understand, that damned individual (intoxicated by the wine, the night, and the mistaken idea of mutual friendship) spoke again: -Are you sure it is the food that hurts? - No matter the reason, just the fact that something hurts, I answered, to which he, striking with words as fast as the train, and backed by the sophistication of his suit, exclaimed, laughing: -That’s the cause of your pain. Life is not that simple. You cannot disregard the causes behind the facts or you will never find an answer to what disturbs you. - Do you think you are superior because you look at the causes? Tell me, are you happy? Did you kill your pain when you found the cause? Are you more than an amalgam of absurdities covered by a meaningless life?

-... - No, huh? I expected it, my arrogance exclaimed sharply, disturbed by words I never asked to hear. -So, that is all you see, nonsense ... was the subject's response, followed by a sarcastic smile.

He knew ... He knew of my discomfort… He knew that I took refuge in my arrogance for fear of tackling the roots of my problems. It was no longer a conversation, it was a game of chess, and the damned subject had me in check.

What did he want from me? Why did he seek my trust in exchanging wine, only to later force me into introspection?

My discomfort was evident, and my bubble of pessimism was altered. The train’s metallic screech and my damned companion ripped through my thoughts. These thoughts now sounded like incomprehensible cacophonies in my mind. They knew of my pain, and they enjoyed it. They mocked my misfortune. ... But, just before my anger and despair turned into unrest, I saw the bottle of wine in front of me… It was being offered to me by my rival, by the one who saw within the void of my arrogance. As the train lost speed and impact, I resorted to accepting the wine. I drank while the subject, preparing to leave the train, exclaimed:

-Don't worry anymore, this is nonsense.

With the same ambiguity in his words, he gifted me a smile and left the train, leaving only the latter and the bottle of wine as accomplices of my uncertainty.

OICES

The Great Day of His Wrath: Appreciating the Beauty of Chaos Meriem Terzi

The painting on display at the Tate Museum in London is a personal favourite. I fell in love instantly when I discovered it. I immediately needed to know more about the artist behind the masterpiece.

John Martin, a Romantic painter, is known for his depictions of Hell and Heaven, as well as for his paintings of Biblical scenes of apocalypse and chaos. I was always a fan of religious art because the various perceptions of the concept of the Divine are fascinating, in my opinion, but the beauty of this painting is incomparable. The artist’s vision of destruction and his depiction of the pointlessness of humankind to counter the will of God are spellbinding. The painting is also a social commentary about the impact of industrialization. His trip to the “Black Country”, an area of the west of Birmingham that gained its name to the smoke from the thousands of ironwork factories and forges found there, inspired him to paint this piece.

The destruction of the rural locality set to be replaced by heavy machinery was a new reality for most of the western cities in the 19th century. The painting represents the destruction of Babylon, a rapidly growing civilization that can be compared to the rapidly growing London that the painter lived in.

Martin’s beautiful portrayal of apocalypse and cataclysms is breath-taking, to say the least. The artist’s fascination for judgment and damnation is what sets his paintings apart from other Romantic artists. Although his true worth was never recognized in his time, his visions were great influences in many aspects of the arts. His works inspired filmmakers like Ray Harryhausen and DW Griffith, among others.