The Last Train Home

20251020

Written for Bradley Ramsey's "First Indulgence" event.

My life began to end when I fell asleep on the train home. A mistake, yes, but not one which warrants such cosmic punishment. I’d made it plenty of times before, like who knows how many of my fellow commuters.
When I was shaken awake by a conductor and told I’d gone all the way to Ploughgate I was embarrassed and distressed. A normal sort of penalty. And then I found someone had nicked my phone and wallet. Another normal, though painful, penalty.
Station staff were very helpful, registering my stolen goods with the police and making sure that the staff on the next train and my home station were aware of my predicament. Their kindness was a huge comfort.
Perhaps I should’ve thought to borrow a phone and call Deidre. Perhaps that was my true mistake.
Apart from an hour of fretting this last leg of the trip was uneventful. The staff were ready to take my email in leu of my train pass, and one even insisted on giving me bus fare home, saying something about Sikh principles. Normally I’d have insisted I was fine, but… I really wasn’t. And who am I to get in the way of another chap’s path to heaven?
Besides, it was bucketing it down.
So there I was. On my doorstep. Ringing the bell, because my keys were attached to my wallet. Which probably meant we’d have to change the locks. The spiralling cost of my simple, innocent mistake added to the mundane exhaustion weighing me down.
I expected Deidre to be relieved that I’d finally arrived, and was mentally kicking myself for not getting word to her earlier. But when she opened the door and saw me, she… froze. Gawped. Pushed the door mostly shut again, so we were staring at each other through a protective crack.
“Didi?” Without thinking I looked behind me, though it was definitely my face her disbelieving gaze was fixed on. “What’s-”
A voice came down the hall. My voice. “Who is it?”
Suddenly her reaction made sense and nothing made sense, all at once.
We stared at one another. Helpless. Questioning. Probably the most in-sync we’d been our entire marriage. It’s a shame that unity was caused by our world dropping out from under us.
“Didi?” That mine-yet-how voice called, now sounding concerned. Footsteps came down the hall. Deidre stepped away, letting me see myself.
The inside me faltered. Blinked. Raised a hand to pinch his cheek.
His face, his posture, everything… it was like one of those video-feed trick “mirror” getups. But no funhouse, no matter how elaborate or fiendish in design, could reduce me to this damp palms buzzing ears flopping stomach terror which left me speechless.
He was dressed in track pants and one of my ancient faded band tees. Exactly as I would be, if I’d gotten home like normal. He looked just as confused and unnerved as me.
Had… when I fell asleep did I, did I slip through some portal or fall into a mirror universe or WHAT IS HAPPENING??
I took a deep breath. It only fuelled the dizziness. “I’m dreaming. Please tell me I’m dreaming. I, I’m still asleep on the train. That’s it.”
“You woke up on a train?” Not-me said. “What was your ticket number?”
“I-I don’t know, I didn’t memorise it and someone stole my phone while I was asleep and-”
“Ah.” He paused, my phone in hand. Or is it his? “Well, what about your ID numbers?”
“They took my wallet too. I don’t have anything.”
Behind him, Deidre’s eyes narrow.
Of course it looks suspicious. In her place I wouldn’t believe me either. I don’t know what to say to her because I don’t know what to think.
Is this another universe or timeline or something and I’ve invaded these poor people’s lives? Or did some nightmarish monster steal my identity and with it my life?
Is Deidre in danger? Am I putting her in danger by being here? For all I know if I leave the monster would eat her or worse. But equally me failing to get back to the correct timeline or whatever might doom us all.
Dreaming. I slapped myself. The light sting birthed agony as slim hope snapped.
Not-me put his hand on the door and declared “I-I don’t know who - or what - you are, but there’s nothing here for you!”
The door slammed shut. Leaving me standing in the rain.
Was that really what I sound like, when I’m trying to sound tough? I didn’t realise it was that goofy. Another ding from the universe on this, the worst day of my life.
Now what?
Well… in his place, I’d call the police. And being taken into custody was… it was at least a next step.
But either not-me differed in this regard or the police laughed off his tale of a bedraggled doppelgänger showing up on his doorstep and trying to bluff their way in while he was present and without having any evidence. Either way, no-one came to collect me.
So I turned and, with no direction left, started the walk back to the train station.
The city around me, mundane and familiar, somehow felt alien. Nothing could be trusted anymore.
Would it be fixed, if I could just fall asleep on another train? Would anyone on staff know if doppelgängers hunted trains for unwary fools to rob?
Would… would they know how to tell if you’re a doppelgänger? Whether you could’ve simply woken up thinking you were human, your mind flooded with another’s memories?
That thought left me clutching a metal railing for support, the terror breaking in a wave of tears.
No, no! I wouldn’t believe that. I couldn’t. I had to believe that I was real, and somewhere my Deirdre was waiting for me.
I straightened and staggered onwards to the station. Please let there be answers. Help. Hope.
But if all else fails… perhaps it’s where I belong.

Prompt was “You come home, only to find an exact copy of yourself sitting at the dinner table…”