night had fallen.
joe trudged down the road to the quaintly rustic train station.
he carried a paper bag containing the sandwiches and bottles of water the security guard had given him back at the castle.
he figured he was about halfway back to the station so he decided to stop and sample the fare.
he sat down on a grassy spot beside a bend in the road.
as he sat down he felt the letter in his back pocket - the heartfelt handwritten letter he had intended to deliver to sebastian dream.
he had asked the security guard if he could leave the letter with him, and the guard had replied -
you can leave it, but per my instructions i will just burn it.
yes, joe had thought, and have a good laugh reading it before you do. i know your type.
so he had kept it.
he unwrapped one of the two sandwiches. it seemed to be black forest ham and gouda cheese on a sourdough roll, with some sort of special sauce. it tasted pretty good.
joe finished the sandwich and one of the bottles of water.
he got up and looked back at the castle, now barely visible beyond the brow of the hill.
most of the lights in the castle had gone out, and now a couple more did.
just like the lights of my dreams, joe thought.
my dreams.
and the dreams of all the other chumps and suckers and losers who thought they had a chance. who thought they could catch a break and be given a fair shot at the gold ring -
who thought the pay window would stay open after the race was over
and the rainbow would never turn gray
and there would be a wallet full of greenbacks lying in the gutter of the last street at the edge of town before you hit the desert
and the empty sky above the desert would open up and pour down rain just before you died of thirst -
yes, he had always believed -
always believed.
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