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| So 'merican, you can taste it! |
Finn had no memory of how long she had been walking along the disused railway track. Yet, she was sure that if she had a beard it would've grown down to her knees by now. Swathes of ragweed had become a familiar sight, along with heaps of rust, brick dust, broken concrete, and twisted girders. She walked over the top of yet another long narrow viaduct, and sometime later – much later in fact – she came to the mouth of a tunnel. The mouth was a void – no light could be seen at the other end. But she had got this far, so she carried on.
She felt her way through the darkness – there was no way of telling for how long. No sounds could be heard other than the sound of her breathing and her footsteps. And the air was soured with the smell of soot and dampness. When she finally came out into the light, she saw she was in a different country. The land stretched out in a vast empty plain before her, and the disused rail track, which now was as straight as an arrow, ran endlessly into the distant horizon. She kept going. At least my feet haven't got any bigger from all this walking, she thought to herself after many miles. It was the first thought she had thought for a very long time.
Eventually, she came to a small station. Like all stations along the line, its waiting room windows were thoroughly broken and its platforms appeared long deserted. But then she noticed on Platform 2 a smart red and white striped kiosk. Above the kiosk, a sign said 'Hot Dogs'. Another sign said 'Open for Business'.
Finn walked up to the kiosk and said to the man behind the counter "Good day, sir, how is business today?" She was surprised at how perfectly formed her words were – she couldn't remember the last time she had spoken and had forgotten the sound of her own voice. The man said nothing.
"I would like to purchase precisely one of your fine hot dogs, good sir," she said.
"With or without a bun?" muttered the vendor.
Not wanting to sound extravagant, Finn asked for without. The man prepared a hot dog for Finn and wrapped it carefully in a paper towel.
"That'll be one shilling exactly, miss," he declared.
Finn checked her pockets and realized she was wearing her other mac. "I am afraid, I have left my money at home, sir," she said. "If it is no trouble, I can go back and get some."
"No, it's all right, miss," the man said without any hint of scorn, "have this one on the house."
"That's very kind of you, sir," said Finn. "But I will not be able to have it after all – I've just remembered my physician has placed me on a restricted diet and hot dogs are on the list of things I'm not supposed to eat."
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