8
NIGHT TRAIN
He makes it back to the storeroom without too many wrong turns. Before he opens the door to the alley, he stops and listens. No one’s there. It’s safe.
Back at the main road, he turns left and heads away from Paradise City. The muscle should be long gone by now, but there’s no use taking chances.
The sidewalks and streets are still crowded. Nobody sleeps in this town, he thinks.
Crossing a busy intersection, he trips on what he thinks is a granite paving stone. But no, it’s a steel track. He looks up. Catenary wire runs overhead, like dialogue in the funny pages. He looks around but there’s no trolley stop. Maybe they don’t run anymore.
He keeps moving. There are no more bars or shops. Just a few lonely houses, with dead grass and mailboxes leaning over like street-corn
