The Sensible Girl - Final Part 6 She straightened up, pushing away from him and putting a hand to her head. Glass crunched under her shoe, and she wobbled as reclaimed her footing. She opened her eyes, squinting and frowning as she found the train stationary and the carriage dark, lit only some dim emergency lighting. The floor was at an angle, and an oily breeze pressed in from the empty windows - their shattered contents scattered all around. The middle aged businessman lay face down on the table, deflated somehow, twisted in way that #life wouldn't have allowed. A drift of glass beads piled up against him, the top of his head pock marked with a myriad of tiny bloodless wounds. "He's having some fun now, I can tell you!" The man in the black suit smiled, still radiant in the gloom. "What?" She said, straightening her hair, trying to put some order on things. "What's happened?" She croaked. "Well, remember what I said about you being in the wrong place?" He smiled. "Huh?" She snapped, not this again. "Look, I think we'd better get out of here." She liked it when he sounded kind. He helped her to the exit. "Where are we?" She said, standing in the door way peering into darkness. "Jammed in a tunnel." He grunted dropping to the track, crunching gravel as he landed. "The train hit a car." A frightening thought gripped her and she drew in a sharp breath. "Did I die?" "A little, perhaps?" He grinned. She froze for a moment, then realised what he meant. "Get away from me." She growled, laughing and sounding cross at the same time. She fended off his attempts to help her from the train and climbed down a little hesitantly, but glad to be reasserting herself. They picked their way through the debris and track gravel, emerging into daylight and the hubbub of a large scale emergency rescue. By now she was talking continuously, her experiences poured out of her in exclamations and questions. Again, she had the feeling that he was pleased with her, that he had made the right choice somehow. The vision/knowledge he had given/shared with her was as profound as any human could experience. She was alone with it though, there was not a soul on the planet, other than the man smiling gently down at her, who would believe what she had seen. There was nothing substantial to pass on either. There was no spiritual message of hope of #life ever lasting or forgiving god of love, nor had she been given some theory or equation, that could unify the contradictory and confusing efforts the best minds of the human race had come up with. She realised the there was no meaning to #life, no greater purpose. That you had a #life, and, got to live it, if you were lucky, was all their was. Wasn't that enough? Love your #life. Love #life. He listened patiently and tried his best to answer her unanswerable questions, she barely listening to his replies anyway. "No God." She said changing tack suddenly, holding his arm, bringing them both to halt. "You said there was no God." "Actually, you said that, but no, there is no God." He confirmed "But there was love, I felt it, the universe, the universes and all the, the other, um, stuff, is full of it." She looked at him, wonder rolling up behind her eyes. "Yes?" He said, looking puzzled, head turning slightly. "You don't think hate could hold together something as totally fucking, tit waningkly, cock gaggingly amazing as what you've seen do you?" He walked on. Stunned by his foul mouthed logic, she stared at the space he had vacated. "No, I don't suppose it could." She said to herself. She turned to catch up with him, already more questions were piling up in her mouth. Overwhelmed with casualties, and the aftermath of the crash, the emergency services ignored the uninjured couple as they made their way through the bustle of rushing police officers, firefighters and paramedics. A man in a T Shirt and jeans asked if they'd seen his laptop, he couldn't remember where he had put it. He looked confused for a moment then suggested they register with the command and control point. He wandered off, looking at the ground, scratching his head. They saw the long queue of sobbing, shocked, shouting and silent passengers registering their presence and decided to give it a miss. They walked back along the mangled railway line, past the wreckage of a car, partially covered by a tarpaulin, attended to by a serious looking police officer. He nodded gravely as they passed. They reached the level crossing where the train had struck the car, the barriers lay in disarray and a crowd pressed at the police cordon craning their necks for a view of the crash. While they waited for an officer to let them through, she looked at his jacket. "What is this made of, anyway?" She frowned, pulling at a sleeve. "The material?" He laughed, lifting his arm a little. "Fabric of space and time, sweetheart." He beamed a smiled that lit up her heart. After a nod from his superior the Community Patrol Officer hinged back one of the metal barriers and lifted a length of black and yellow plastic tape that clattered in the morning breeze. They ducked under the flickering tape, pushed their way through the crush of on lookers and found themselves on a suburban street. Spring sunshine was warming the year and threatened clear the sky of its shattering of fluffy white clouds. "Coming back to mine?" He twinkled. "Yes!" She said, it was the only sensible thing to do.