I chewed my bottom lip as the train slid into the station, a puff of smoke shooting into the air before trailing away into the cold. The woman who had sat next to me, stood up, her lips pulled into a pleasant smile and marched off of the train, along with exactly three other passengers (two men and one other woman). They were all off the transport in less than five seconds.

    I peered down at my ticket, hoping again the station marked would be this one, but my heart fell again at the name.

    "Last call for Terra? Last call for Terra!" called the conductor. I looked out my window, gazing at the rolling hills, lush with verdant nature and the quaint cottages, inhabited by smiling people. And they weren't even smiling with their mouths—they were smiling with their eyes.

    "Alright—onward and outward!" the conductor said before the engine roared back to life, taking the rest of us steadily away from the paradise. I knew looking back at Terra would pain me, but against my better judgement, I took in the scenery once more, imbibing the greenery and the wholesomeness. I also noticed the passengers, who had been dropped off embraced some of the older inhabitants with warmth before they showed the passengers off to the lovely accommodations set up, specially for them. 

I clenched my gloved hand into a fist, fighting the urge to cry, and the ticket bent in my grasp, barely resisting my strength. 

"Don't cry, love," said an older voice. I turned, noticing an elderly woman sitting beside me. She wore a lavish gray coat, lined with silk edges and a matching gray hat, only slightly revealing the shock of white hair beneath. She had exposed hands, I noticed. Not an ounce of cloth covering them.

"I apologize, but I don't know what you mean," I replied, my voice shaking.

"We always end up making due wherever we are. Especially as we did, er... in the other time," she said, waving her hand, "What makes you think we cannot here?"

"Well, I didn't exactly 'make due' in the other time!" The woman appeared as if she'd been slapped. I sighed, watching as my gloved hands methodically smoothed out my ticket. "I'm sorry. I'm very concerned, is all."

The woman didn't reply immediately, but finally she said softly, "I'm sorry, but I didn't quite catch your name."

"It's Lillian." The corners of the woman's lips rose.

"You know, I had a grandchild whose name was also Lillian!" she exclaimed. "She had the most curious eyes. She wouldn't have ever had her thirst for adventure satiated until she could set her eyes on the lost city of Atlantis!" The woman chuckled. "Her father -my son- had the most difficult time getting a hold of her and fitting her into dresses and setting her up for marriage. Even as a young woman, the thirst for adventure never left her." She sighed, lost in the memory.

"She sounds lovely," I said, attempting to sound happy for her.

"I wouldn't tell anyone in my family this, but" -she leaned over- "she was my favorite grandchild. She was one of those people who never let fear cripple her. Instead, she used it so she could build herself up. Even as the older woman I was, she never failed to mesmerize me." I let her entertain her reverie and didn't dare break it. I might not have been the Lillian she was reminiscing, but it was all the more important that she hold onto her. One could forget themselves quite easily on this train.

After a moment of silence, the woman's gaze slid over to my ticket and then to my eyes.

"With your permission, might I take a look...?" she inquired, her eyes now back on the ticket. I glanced down at my hands, realizing I was still smoothing it out. Reluctantly, I nodded and handed it to her; I could already feel the blood rushing to my face as she turned the bit of paper over. Her eyes searched for the station's name for a moment before releasing a sharp gasp. Quickly realizing her mistake, she attempted to smooth her features into indifference, but it didn't matter. She'd seen it. Anyone would react the same.

Suddenly, the dark ate at the light inside the locomotive, and I turned, looking out the window, noticing the new station we'd arrived at. If I hadn't been on this transport for longer than I had, I would have assumed this station to be from the other life. Empty tracks sat promptly across from this one, and in between the both of them, pillars lined the pathway down to the exit.

"We have arrived at the Ferro Station. All who have the station Ferro—that is with an 'F'— please make your way off the train!" called the conductor. The woman immediately handed back my ticket.

"Good luck, my dear. I'm afraid this is my stop," she said only barely meeting my eyes and rushing to the exit.

"Good bye," I said under my breath, looking out onto the platform again. Not a moment later, she rushed off onto it, along with a gentleman in a black fedora. The man leaned over to her and said something to which the woman nodded, replying something back.

"Last call for Ferro? Last call for Ferro!"

Then, right as the engine began again, they both glanced back at me, a frown pulling at their faces. I looked away.