SOS

The familiar buzz of this rugged old train is far, far more pleasant than the cacophony of metallic machinery sounds on a ship's engine room. Late at night, people clumped in this damp atmosphere of lethargy, some already closing their eyes to give in to sleep.

I was standing, sighing, then smiling. I just came from talking to one of my classmates who was interested product investment. This is exponentially better than working to keep a ginormous hull of metal afloat the rough seas of Atlantic and Pacific. Considering that I never really liked the maritime profession, I'm done. Well, almost, not until Graduation on December. After that, however, I'm gonna venture out as far from the oceans as humanly possible. I've given Mom what she wanted; this is about me now.

A loud ring from the phone of a middle-aged woman disrupted my trance-like thought. She picked it up, "Hello?"

Then the teenage girl beside her checked her own phone, and started typing. Personally, I disdain this generation's over-attachment to technology, pretentious as it may seem. Everyone seemed to have became Pavlov's dogs, but instead of salivating on the ring of the bell for food, people gets giddy on the ring of their phones. Yeah, well, there are merits to technology, but I try to keep my technological usage to a minimum.

Specifically, on cases of emergency.

Then, my phone rang. That tri-tone. I hesitated, especially after satirizing the abuse of phones. But, there's this gut-feeling; the ringtone seems to be delivered in a deeply unsettling Hertz. It tingled my stomach in a very unpleasant way.

So, I immediately took the phone, and there was a message.

It was from Archie.

"SOS."