Life imitating something…

On the heels of my meeting Sal, a narcoleptic who was once a private detective, there’s this harrowing story from speculative fiction author extraordinaire Tim Pratt, who was reading The Harlequin and the Train while riding a train:

I read it on a train on the day this happened:

As soon as I came down the stairs to the train platform, I heard loud moaning. I soon saw this blond tweaker-looking dude crawl from beneath the platform by the train tracks like a mole-man emerging from his lair, wailing and twitching and screaming.

No one offered him a hand up in case he was standing on the electrified rail, and the screaming/twitching were due to him carrying current.

He eventually hauled himself to the platform, where he rolled around scratching, moaning, etc. while various people asked if he was okay.

He spoke not a word until someone said “Did you take something?” He said “No man, I didn’t take nothin’,” then back to screeching.

Then my train came. If he’d stayed down there on the tracks flipping out for a couple/few more minutes…”

Fiction coming true?  Cats and dogs living together, mass hysteria?

Nah, but as I told Tim, in an odd way, I think his train story is cool.


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