Albert's train journey: This is where the journey ends

This tells the story of Albert, who realises that his journey symbolises the end of his life's path. The three women can be interpreted as an allusion to the Norns from Norse mythology. These three goddesses of fate spin, weave and ultimately cut the thread of every human life. Together, they represent the course of life from birth to death.

Albert feels slightly detached, as if he were only half awake. He sits slumped in his seat on the train, looking out of the window. Through the glass, he sees a ghostly reflection of the compartment. He sees the yellowish light of the lamps and his own reflection staring back at him. He also sees three women sitting a little further ahead on the other side of the otherwise completely empty compartment. He doesn't want to listen to them chattering, but he can't ask them to be quiet because he wants to be left alone. Besides, he is too tired to get up. So, sleepily, he listens to their conversation.

The three old ladies seem to be talking about someone they know. They all have their needlework with them, probably to pass the time on their long journey. The sound of the rattling carriage mixes with the ladies' conversation: 'Such a pretty child, wasn't he?' 'Yes, he certainly was, and a very quiet one too.' 'Then came those times, you know...' 'But back then, everything was still open, wasn't it? You know that...' 'It was, but he didn't see much.' 'You mean he didn't want to see...' 'He was unlucky. The pattern turned out differently.'

Albert closed his eyes in anguish, unable to make sense of these strange words. Outside, there is nothing to see except a few light reflections. It is so dark that it feels as if the train is travelling through an endless tunnel. Albert wants to know what time it is, but he is too exhausted to lift his arm and check his watch.

He remembers that yesterday had not been a good day. He had a job interview and had prepared for it. He wore clean clothes, shaved, used mouthwash, and packed his documents in a bag. They kept him waiting, and then he was in the office for maybe ten minutes. It hadn't taken any longer than that, and then he was back outside. He hadn't expected anything else, because he was turning fifty-eight the next day. Besides which, he had been out of work for too long and had heart problems.

Albert is almost mildly astonished as he thinks back to the days when he earned good money, supported a family, and was healthy. That was a long time ago. His wife had left him, and he had lost contact with his children. But hadn't he wanted it that way? He couldn't remember – the memory wouldn't come back. His decline began with his first dismissal, which he took personally. He had probably also alienated his family, but he couldn't remember that either.

The voices of the old women penetrate Albert's consciousness once again: 'He took it out on everyone...' 'That was understandable, wasn't it?' 'Well, yes, but he knew exactly what he was doing. He made the woman cry because he couldn't do it.' 'It's like that for a lot of people, you know.' 'He didn't want to fail.' 'He only failed when he struck.' 'Yes, that's right, and he punished himself for it.' 'Drinking hurts.' 'Oh yes, it does.' 'He completely lost his way.'

Albert pricks up his ears. It seems to him that the women over there are talking about him. But that's ridiculous – they don't even know him! They just happen to be sitting on the same train to ... but where is he actually going? He can't remember getting into the carriage. He doesn't know why he's here either. He came home last night, barely able to drag himself up the stairs. Then there was the pain in his arm and chest that had been bothering him for days. He dropped the folder containing the documents and lay down on the sofa. He had strange dreams about doors and things like that. Now he has woken up on this train, but he has no idea how he got here.

The train has slowed down noticeably as it enters the station. He can hear noises coming from further ahead, from the three women. They seem to be packing up. Feeling tired, Albert turns his head to look at them and watches as they roll up their balls of wool – or whatever they are – and stow them in bags. One of the women drops a large pair of scissors into her bag, looks over at him and smiles.

The train has stopped now and Albert is afraid. It seems as if the journey is ending there, though. He holds on to one of the metal handrails as the women approach him. The last woman, the one with the scissors, takes him by the arm and says kindly, 'All right, it's time now. Come with us, it's time to get off.' Suddenly, he realises what train this is and who the three old women are. He isn't actually unhappy about it. Albert can hardly remember anything before this train journey anyway, and that's probably for the best. It's getting light outside.

© 'Albert's train journey: This is where the journey ends': A short story by Ilona E. Schwartz (translated by Izabel Comati), 02/2026. The illustration shows a railway station in Hungary, © Winfried Brumma (Pressenet).