I strolled around the foyer for the next few minutes, hiding behind counters and vendors, doing my best not to lose sight of the platform for too long. All the same, I had to avoid making eye contact with the stallion still standing out there, glass front in between or not. I made this encounter awkward enough already. With any luck, I wouldn't have to talk to him again anytime soon. Maybe, I thought, I should just take a later train. But then I'd just keep freezing of course. And I'd gotten to a point where my body violently reminded me to get myself warmed up already in one way or another as soon as possible, no matter the cost. Cowering in front of one of Baltimare Central's many store fronts wouldn't do anymore after last night. Internally I started begging for the train to arrive all too desperately to just miss it. My eyes wandered up to the large clock on the ceiling. Three more minutes and I'd be out of here.

I sat there a while longer. Naturally I'd have loved to distract myself, but of course none of the damn stores in this place had opened up yet. There was nothing to do except waiting and hoping I wouldn't make my own situation any worse than it had become anyway. Looking around, I discovered even the benches were all still occupied by my fellow slumbering heaps of trash. Go figure.

They all stirred a little, when the sound of a train whistle penetrated the room, it's hoot echoing through the hall for a moment or so. Seconds later everyone had fallen fast asleep again. To them this was business as usual, of course. A hunch told me none of these ponies were spending their first night here. I didn't know whether to feel sad or resentful about them. I didn't have any good reasons either way.

To Tartarus with them. The whistle made me jump up momentarily, and I did of course know what it meant. My means of transport away from this forsaken coast had finally arrived. I dashed forward from behind the shop's counter, carrying nothing but my own rotten self towards my perceived salvation, just as fast as my hoofs could carry me. There was a train now standing on track number twelve, its engine huffing out clouds of steam, all heated up and ready to go. A total of four crimson-colored carts were attached to it. Without thinking, I ran to the first one in line and jumped up through the nearest open doorway. Anything to get me out of this cold.

"The air inside was somewhat lukewarm at best, and on first impact I didn't feel any better at all. But it would have to do for now, and I felt confident I'd be doing better in time. The seats, all arranged in pairs facing each other, were neatly wrapped in thick cushions. I seemed to have a bit of an unlimited choice between them, since there wasn't a single soul in sight anywhere. Those already made for two upsides of my gruesome situation. Still, the things I'd have given for a warm, wooly blanket just then!

All things considered, I didn't mind too much which of these seats I'd be occupying. One that wouldn't be taken up at a later stop by someone who made a reservation, I could only hope. Even though there was no way of knowing that now. The conductor might have something to say about that if asked, so I'd have to avoid him like the plague for now. Me not having a ticket and all that. After a short search, I flopped down on a pair of seats which seemed to be in relatively good shape.

I stayed in a fetal position for a moment, just basking in the softness of the fabric under my worn bones, taking it in as much as I could in this short a time. Which did get cut short when I casually looked up after a bit, and found myself face to face with the grumpy stallion from earlier. He was sitting at the opposite window, uncomfortably regarding me and my antics. I quickly bounced back into an upright position once I realized that.

"I, uh..." I began. That's it. There literally wasn't anything else I could bring myself to say. Of course.

"Mighty sorry if I've come across as rude earlier," he said, starting the conversation for me. "I didn't think ya were actually gonna hop onto this here train."

"Oh, oh, yeah...never mind that," I stuttered. "I guess I probably looked like...someone else."

He nodded, but didn't say another word, as I'd hoped. I made an effort to straighten myself, pointing towards the end of the car.

"Uh...I have to, like, go…"

With that I got up, looking for the nearest bathroom. Locking myself in there would give me some time to figure things out, I thought. I did soon enough spot a plain grayish door to the right, reading WC. This had to be it, naturally. It also read "Locked while vehicle is stationary." And really, when I tried pushing down the handle, it wouldn't budge. The shrill sound of a whistle came by from outside, piercing my eardrums. I cringed at that.

Standing still for a moment, I told myself not to panic. The bathroom had been my one way out of getting written up for, well, not having paid for my ride, and now that option closed itself before my own eyes. Literally. Several doors then slammed close all along the side of the train. I could tell I was in for it now. A harsh crank ran through the car as the engine began pushing us out of the station. And still, I stood there like an idiot with no idea in mind what to do. Glancing through the nearest window, I could see the platforms of Baltimare Central rush by quicker and quicker, until they receded at last, and all I could see were thinning numbers of rails running alongside us, supported by rows of pebbles and undergrowth. A mechanic clicking sounded from inside the door.

Without a split-second to lose, I pushed it open and leaped inside. Closing the door behind me and turning the lock, I finally breathed an air of relief. Turning around, I stared at an empty metal bowl which had somehow been fixated to the ground and which, aside from a cheap tin sink mounted to the opposite wall, was all I could find in here. My enthusiasm restrained itself from rising any further, with me wondering what sort of luxuries I'd even expected in a place like this. There was a reason why I'd rarely even used train bathrooms until then.

Someone had spray-painted a bunch of words onto the wall above the improvised toilet, and it took me a moment to make them out. "For flushing, work pedal below," they read. I took a peak around, and there really was a small pedal, well-hidden and right beneath the bowl. As I stepped on it, the very bottom of the toilet moved aside with a rusty creaking, revealing a narrow gap directly facing the rails rushing by below. I let it snap back into place, and snorted at the implications. Locked while stationary. Alright then.

I sat down next to the bowl and pondered for a while. I didn't actually need to use it of course, I was just in here to get out of a sticky situation, regarding both my missing ticket and yet another unnecessary encounter with the guy from the platform. I wondered what to do about that, of course. I couldn't just go sit somewhere else, that would just be rude. And to be honest, it likely would make the situation even worse.

What to do? I sat there thinking for a good while longer, but no decent ideas would come to mind. After who knows how long, I could hear the door connecting our car to the next one over slide open. Moments later, the clanging sound of hoofs on metal passed by my humble cabin, followed by the words, "fillies and gentlecolts, your tickets please."

Well that was something, I figured. If the conductor had made it this far, and there really only was this one other pony in the whole car, he'd be done with the place in no time, and I could slip back out already. I kept thinking about resolving my other situation, and my brain kept providing me with nothing useful at all. I worked the pedal one more time at some point. I'll admit, it did make me grin for another second or two.

After what felt like forever and then some, I finally heard the conductor's hoofs pass me by again. The connecting door slid open and close, and I knew he was finally, finally gone. I gave him another minute to disappear before I unlocked the door and carefully stalked back out.

I still didn't know what to do. That being said, I just sat down on the same seat I'd been on before, even though it might expose me to awkward smalltalk all day. The stallion briefly looked up to acknowledge my return, then continued gazing out of the window.

"Whelp," I said, sitting down. I was going to follow it up by saying "that took a while." Luckily, I managed to halt my own dumb tongue in time this once. I wanted to bring up the conductor next, but quickly reasoned how even that would hardly lead down a path with a positive outcome for myself. So I said nothing until I managed to think of something else.

"So, what's your name?" that was. Real imaginative as always. I could see the stallion's ears slightly twitch, as he turned to me with a face that I could only describe as sleepy.

"Mac," he replied. "Yours?"

"Berry."

"Nice meeting ya."

"Right."

"From Baltimare?" he asked.

"Oh, uh, yes. I can't really do much in Baltimare right now, and I have to hit the road for a bit. Personal trouble. Wouldn't want to bore you with it."

He nodded again. "Alright."

"Where...are you from?"

"Small town out in the plains," he told me, his face lighting up a little. "Name's Ponyville. Me 'n my kinsfolk run a farm there…"

"…growing apples?"

"Eeyup. We got ourselves some animals too, of course. But apples are our main source of income. Fam'ly tradition I reckon. Been like this for generations." He cleared his throat. "And the town, it's a real nice place too. Real nice, I tell ya. Not really a lot to see 'n such, sure. But it's got heart. Goes a long way, that."

He sounded all too genuine about it. Even as he was speaking, I could already just imagine what a nice, quiet life that must have been. In a way, my mind already started skipping through scenarios where I was doing just what he described: Growing some crops, tending them, feeding some cows or pigs or whatever. Always something to do, and nothing at all to make life miserable. Ponies like this one, I thought, they enjoyed the simple things in life and probably fared better with that than any of us vermin from the rotten hearts of civilization ever would. We, whose inner clocks had already adjusted to the rapidness of today, where a pony needed everything any nothing in seconds, everything cramming up your day and such. Speaking of which…

"What...sorry. I was always wondering. What time do you have to get up at a place like yours? In the morning, I mean?"

"'bout five."

"Oh well. Kill your dreams before it's too late and all that. Mac must have read my reaction though, as he followed up his own statement.

"Would be a bit tough for y'all folks not accustomed to it. Ya look pretty beat anyhow, and I ain't gonna blame it on ya after spending all the night on that bench out there. Must've been a pretty tough break you had."

"With…" I stared at him, cluelessly.

"Awright, sorry. Ain't my business to intrude in. What I'm trying to say is, if ya need some sleep, go right ahead. I ain't gonna judge you for it."

"Right, thanks," I said, surprised. "I'll…do my best."

We drifted apart a bit after that, or so it felt. He went back to gazing, and I put my head down on one of the armrests, while spreading out across both seats in an effort to lay down. Originally, I only wanted to sort of pretend trying to sleep to ease the mood or whatever. But as soon as I lay there again, the fatigue started rushing all over me, and I noticed just how beat I really was, even after some hours of rest out on the platform. Sleep came to me quick but lightly this time, and I for once wholeheartedly welcomed it.