Jacob took the late-night train only once a week, a quiet ride through the countryside where stars looked close enough to touch. But tonight, something felt different.
The train didn’t slow down at the first station.
Then the second.
Passengers looked around nervously. Jacob approached the conductor.
“Sir, we passed my stop.”
The conductor lowered his voice. “This train only stops when someone finds what they’ve lost.”
Before Jacob could answer, the lights flickered. A woman across the aisle gasped.
“My ring!” she cried as a golden wedding band rolled to her feet, one she had lost months ago.
Moments later, the train screeched to a halt at the next station.
One by one, passengers found missing diaries, forgotten photos, even old letters appearing magically in their laps. Each time the train stopped, someone stepped off smiling, lighter, complete.
Jacob sat quietly. He didn’t know what he had lost.
Until he felt a tiny hand slip into his.
A little boy, no older than five, looked up at him.
“Dad?”
Jacob’s breath caught. He recognized the face from dreams of his son, who had passed away years earlier.
The train slowed. The conductor gestured.
“Time to say goodbye.”
Jacob knelt and hugged the boy tightly. The boy whispered, “Don’t be sad anymore.”
The train stopped. When Jacob stepped off, the boy was gone, but so was the grief he’d carried for years. The burden had finally left the train behind.
