TF

Tom Forrest

  • Tom Forrest
    Published about a year ago
    Carriage Politics

    Carriage Politics

    The train creaked as it wound its way along the fresh tracks to Austin, Texas. Belching smoke from a metal chimney that burned to the touch, it had left Santa Fe this morning, under the haze of an exceedingly hot summer. The countryside around the railway looked bare and unpopulated, making the train look like a metal snake invading the otherwise undisturbed New World. Rolling hills melted into forests of struggling green as the train passed through land long since bereft of rainfall and wildlife. The sun was beginning to head towards a beautiful horizon, closing the late afternoon with its deep orange hue; the train trundled on.