Last call for dinner

Mile marker 197 followed by 198 followed by 199. The early evening sky and mile after mile of farmland fields passing by outside the window lull you into a slumber.  Mile marker 200 followed by 201 followed by 205 followed by 285. Deeper and deeper you go mile after mile.

Nothing but the gentle motion of the streamliner, the rhythm of the wheels on the rails and the sweet sound of a nearby chime.

Bing, bing, bong. Bing, bing, bong. Last call for dinner.  Bing, bing, bong, last call for dinner.

Last call for dinner.  Dinner sounds good.  I should go to dinner.  Last call.  What a nice chime.

Last call and deeper you go.

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