The Luxurious Presidential Suite Was A Rarity Among These Aged Rails

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Short Story:

The luxurious presidential suite was a rarity among these aged rails. Ornate decor and luxurious accommodations reflect the influence of fine Victorian elegance. Stained glass windows, rare wood carvings, deep pile carpets, opulent overstuffed furniture and a complete galley equipped with all the necessary facilities prepared the traveler with a taste of grandeur and equipped them with a sense of greater importance. The train was bound for Washington D.C. Equipped with the finest of suits, I was well-known for elegant attire. I brought along pictures from home in which I reminisced upon long, forgotten memories of my children and my wife. Reviving and reliving each and every picture. Each brought happiness and a smile to my
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Every bone inside my body froze entirely. Immediately, my body uncontrollably began exerting large amounts of sweat. My heart which was once tired from exhaustion, forcefully pumping blood quicker than ever. My lifetime flashed before me. In an unclear haze , my thoughts shifted to my children Alan and Herbert Jr. The realization that my time with them had been short and the idea of not providing a substantial and consistent appearance that is essential in providing at least a decent childhood experience.for them, devastated me..Commotion and panic existed in the car in which the sound had been heard and had surprisingly increased. My attention withdrew from my children as I quickly dashed towards my suite. Three minutes later, I was alarmed by the sound of screaming and repeated pounding on the door. My heart froze.

“Crack!”
The noise was heard again. Even closer this time. The knocking and the screaming stopped and I was completely overwhelmed with mixed emotions, mainly fear.
“Open up!” said a rather firm yet weary voice.
My panic and distress caused me to resist opening my mouth and revealing my location. Without making a sound, I cautiously made my way to the rear platform where stairs leading to the top of the train were.
“Open up!” the voice said again with an authoritative tone.

Didn’t say a word.
My sweaty palms grasped the stairs and I
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