[This is part eight of my short story Belly. It's a work in progress, so expect some things to change as I progress further into the narrative, including the order of some of these passages. To go back to the beginning, click here.]
“No, it’s gotten worse. I don’t just hear them, when they speak I’ve started to see things.”
“What kinds of things?”
“Changes. Changes in things that shouldn’t, or shouldn’t so fast. All at once.”
“I’m not following you...”
“Time lost its grip. On me, on them, on the world. Peoples’ faces. I saw them all. I saw all their faces, at every age, at the same time.”
“Whose faces?”
“The faces of the riders on my train. Standing in the aisles, sitting all around me. Every one of them. Their faces all started to change.”
“For how long?”
“Until I got off the train. I couldn’t make it all the way to my stop. It was too much.”
“I can imagine. And the voices caused this?”
“I don’t know. They asked me something. Something about the past, present and future. What if it didn’t exist?”
“And I guess you saw that.”
“I guess I did. I wish I could un-see it. And how do I not see it, ever again?”
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