“Well, you’re going to have to figure it out.”
“So, what are you supposed to be? My spiritual guide?”
“I guess you could say that, sure.”
I shook my head and turned to look out the window. For the most part, I could only see fog, but occasionally I saw various little “islands,” floating in the nothingness, each holding various objects from my life. On one of them, I saw a massive version of the corsage Eloise got me for prom. Another had the God-awful turquoise dress I wore to my brother’s first wedding. I saw my first car, a yellow Toyota Corolla, teetering on the edge of its island, threatening to fall into the fog. This whole place resembled some sort of creepy, depressing museum—which I could only watch from behind the foggy windows as the train slowly drifted through.
* * * *