Walking the Tracks

A lone figure walks along the railroad tracks. It is silhouetted against the darkening evening sky. The gait is slow, deliberate, with the slightest hint of a limp. It is easy to imagine a bandanna tied to a stick, holding all his worldly possessions. The tracks run off to a distant vanishing point and the figure follows.

Suddenly, he bends down to pick a rock from the track bed and throws it. The rock clangs off the rail. The figure thrusts a fist in the air. It's a perfect throw.

He steps onto the rail and begins walking, holding both arms out for balance. He quickly gets used to the movements required to stay upright and goes faster. Running on the rail. Whooping. Laughing. And the figure is enveloped by the dark.