Only Arthur looked the same. And he was smiling now.
He was tall, with the forgotten-collar of a man who’d once been fastidious. His name, according to the ticket clipped above his head, was Arthur. Arthur hadn’t spoken since New Haven. He just stared out the window, watching his own ghost reflect back at him. suspense digest june 2019 part 2
Or had she?
Stationary? Eleanor looked out the window. They were in a cut—a deep trench of rock and mossy wall. No town. No lights. Just the dark. Only Arthur looked the same
The ceiling above her cracked open like an egg. A hand—too long, too pale, with fingers that bent at the wrong knuckles—reached down. It wasn’t grasping. It was waiting. His name, according to the ticket clipped above
“Seat 6 is still waiting. See you next year.”
The ceiling gave a great, groaning shudder. The lights went out.