Lewis closes his eyes against the screaming wheels and the sparks, but then a rock chip catches him on the arm and he falls away slapping at it, and that’s when he finally looks at the train rushing past. Not at the different-colored cars, not at the graffiti smearing past at sixty miles per hour, but at the space between the cars, that space that’s full full full full, then, for a flash, for a slice of an instant, empty. Only, it’s not.
