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The train

“Gareth,” he said. “You were wondering if you knew my name. You didn’t. It’s Gareth.”

Jerry had been wondering, but had said nothing. He felt rather than saw or heard another train arrive. The doors opened silently behind him.

Gareth shifted his center of balance in a manner precisely calculated to make Jerry step backwards.

Jerry stepped back; he felt the gap between the platform and the car on the ball of his right foot.

The events of the past few minutes had made Jerry uncertain of a great many things. That he absolutely did not want to board this train was not one of them.

Gareth smiled a disarming, dishonest smile.

Jerry slid his left foot back, balancing his weight on the edge of the platform. In an effort to avoid going onto the train, he stepped forward and to the right. As he moved, the station, the train, and the platform, moved inexplicably such that when he completed the step, the door was behind him and Gareth was in front of him.

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