A slight shuddering of the train car rouses me from my light slumber and I groan as I try to get my bearings. Once I get them, I wish I hadn’t.
I’d pretend I’m en route to the Capitol on the legendary tribute train,
but the faint squealing of the wheels beneath me and the dankness of the sleeping compartment make that impossible before I even open my eyes. Nope.
This is the first day of my new life, all right, but not at all in the way I’d been planning. I open my eyes.
The cabin is dimly lit even with the lights turned off, so it must be shortly after dawn on Sunday morning. But at this time of year, that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s early.
I’d check on the time if I actually cared.
I boarded this train in District 11 yesterday with the most minimal of pleasantries to my comrades supervising the miners returning from their coal transport assignment,
and I’m in no more of a mood to socialize over breakfast. I roll over with another audible groan and squeeze my eyes shut again.
It’s not long before I’m disturbed by an insistent rapping on my door. It’s probably that bossy bitch again. Purnia, I think.
Read the rest via the link in the description!