Passed for Sleep

         I fell into a feverish state that passed for sleep at times. In it I dreamed that I had lost my suitcase on a train. A shrouded woman was sitting opposite in the same compartment, and the train, unlit, halted at a big country junction. The woman, though we hadn't exchanged a word was important to me. Next, both woman and suitcase disappeared. I knew I had to find both immediately and searched the train which was packed without success. Finally I got of it to look on the platform ; it was blinding down with rain. Thousands of people were hurrying about round me, jostling each other. When I found no sign either of the woman or my case I turned to get back on the train again, only to find that it had left. Now I was alone under the glaring lamps, the wet rails.

How the Dead Live
Derek Raymond
1986