NOTE: My last Friday Fiction story was delivered on October 23rd. In that time I had a vacation and Thanksgiving. Not counting those two Fridays, I truly have no excuse for missing the other 4 Fridays where short stories should’ve been delivered. I am here to share those missed stories as well as an unfinished one. I hope you enjoy reading these even though they are very late:
Note: Intended for release on Friday, November 19th. Apologies for the delay. Happy reading!

The train is scheduled to arrive in less than an hour and Dexter intends on getting on it even if he has to die to do it. The ghost train only allows the souls of the dead to board as it ferries them to their next and final destination. And Dexter is determined to get there where he hopes to find his mother.
His friends from school would dare each other to dress as ghostly as possible and stand near the tracks when the train arrived. The one who could stand there the longest was declared the master of the ghost train. Dexter always wins this challenge but today he wanted to go a step further. Today, the train would go by and it would allow him to jump on.
There was only one known case of a living human being attempting to jump onto the train. And she failed. Her story would serve as a lesson to everyone. A cautionary tale to hopefully prevent anyone from trying to replicate her deadly mistake. But despite all the signs pointing towards Dexter failing, he felt he had cracked the code and was more than willing to risk it all. Worst thing that could happen was he’d die and reach his destination anyway.
He looked at his watch. Just a few minutes now. In the distance he heard the familiar cry of its whistle and could just make out the plume of black smoke leaving a faint trail as it raced along the tracks. The ground beneath Dexter’s feet quaked. The time had come where he’d need to brace himself and prepare to jump.
The steam engine at the front of the train, blowing its black smoke, was the only thing visible to the living. Some believed there to be hundreds of train cars that pulled around the world, collecting the souls of the dead and taking them to their final resting place. Others claim there to be just a handful of cars as it would be impossible for one engine to pull such a heavy load. Whatever the number, Dexter couldn’t take any chances. He would need to jump the moment the steam engine passed in front of him.
If he was successful in tricking the train into thinking he was a soul and not alive, he should land inside the train safely. But if he failed, he would hit the train going at top speed. An impact no human, especially a child, could endure.
There it was, just a few feet away now. It’s facade is covered in ash. Remnants of its smoky trail.
As the train crossed in front of Dexter he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and jumped. His side collided with something sharp that made him scream out in pain as his body landed with a thud on a flat surface. He dared to open just one eye and look at his surroundings. What first caught his eye was the thick red carpet he was laying on. Then he heard several people scream and could hear them all running to his aid.
“Can you stand, young man?” He managed to roll over onto his back and look up at a crowd of faces staring down at him. An old man with a long white mustache he twirled with a gloved hand bent over and shouted at Dexter. “Can you speak, boy?” He opened his other eye to better focus the faces and try to sit up. He winced with pain on his first attempt. It felt like something was broken on his side and he couldn’t seem to move his arm on that side either. Panic began to set in.
“It’s okay. It’s okay. We have someone on board who can fix you right up, darlin’. Where is that damn Conductor? He didn’t tell us we’d have a passenger arriving from here. He’s never where you need him, is he?” Several people standing around shook their heads in agreement with her statement. Dexter could feel tears streaming down his face from the pain. He searched all of their faces, trying to see if he recognized any of them. But he’d never seen his mother before and he needed to compare the women standing around with her photograph.
He tried to reach in his pocket but he winced again, unable to get it.
“What seems to be the trouble?” A tall man stood over Dexter, looking down with contempt in his face. Everything should be running smoothly on his watch and the ghost train was always on his watch. There should never be a need for his presence or assistance.
TO BE CONTINUED…BY YOU…
(You know the drill. How should this end? Will Dexter be found out before he finds his mother? Is she on the train or was she taken to a destination long ago? The choice is yours.)
FULL DISCLOSURE: 1. I’m not perfect. 2. I’m not rich.
Keeping those two things in mind, you may come across typos in grammar, punctuation, and tense (my known biggest writing issue). My feelings won’t be hurt if you point them out to me in the comments.
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I'd love to read this in it's entirety. It's fast pace and great plot lure me in.