I flipped another page in my novel, which was doing little to kill my boredom, but I still stubbornly sloshed through page after page. Another attempt at humor. I was beginning to wish that the author would give up trying to be funny, he obviously wasn't very good at it. The one thing making this subpar book bearable was the rhythmic lull of the train clacking its way down the tracks.

The sound of the cabin door sliding open then shut again reached my ears. I felt the patter of feet making their way from the doorway to the seat across from me and the slight dip of the car as the stranger took his seat. I didn't bother looking up. A few moments later my wife nudged me, and I turned from my novel. Looking quite flustered- bright red, in fact- she motioned emphatically but silently in front of her. I looked ahead, and my eyes widened as I almost choked on my own saliva. Sitting in the seat directly across from me was a middle aged man, not overweight but certainly not thin with thinning brown hair, stark naked.

What seemed like hours but must have been only seconds passed, with my wife and me staring unblinking at this nude man, nonchalantly lounging with his head propped up against his hand watching the scenery roll by through the window, not taking any notice whatsoever of us. I assure you that I did not want to look at this man, but in such a situation, you will find that there is simply no other option. The hour-seconds ticked by in silence, until finally I found my voice, though faltering at first.

". . .A. . . A bit chilly, isn't it?"

"I'm okay," the man replied simply, not taking his gaze off the window.

Another excrutiating pause follwed. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, my wife was by now crimson, the stranger was perfectly at ease.

"Um. . ." I tentatively spoke up again, "I hope you don't mind me asking. . ."

"Why I'm naked?" the man finished my sentence, turning to me for the first time.

"Well. . . yes. If you don't mind."

"Not at all. See, I just figured that, since we're all dead, clothes were fairly pointless."

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

"I figured," the man leaned closer, speaking more clearly, "That since we're all- -"

"I heard you the first time! I'm trying to ask, what do you mean, we're all dead?"

"Precisely what I said. You haven't figured it out yet? This train is the train to the afterlife."

"You're mad."

"Oh no, I assure you, I'm perfectly sane. That may be hard to believe coming from a man with no clothes on. . ."

"You're a lunatic."

"Let me ask you this: in this day and age, why are you travelling by train?"

"We- er, my wife and I- we enjoy the scenery."

"I see. And during this entire trip, have either of you so much as glanced out the window?"

". . .not as such, no. I. . . I was going to. . . later on."

"Rationalize all you want. But eventually you'll have to accept the fact that we are deceased and on our way to some sort of afterlife. Heaven, Hell, something inbetween, I can't be sure. No expert on the subject, myself. As a matter of fact, I was an atheist in life. Boy is my face red. Now," the man stood, "if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go contest the dining car's 'No shirt no shoes no service' policy and see if I can't get something to nibble on. Cheers." The stranger proceeded out of the door and into the hallway. A few seconds later I heard a shriek, followed by his voice calmly saying "Evening, ma'am."

Casting an uneasy glance at my wife, I returned to my novel. It now utterly failed to hold my attention.

***

In a bit of a haze I drifted into the dining car. There at the front, past the rows of dining people whose attention was now focused on the same thing mine was, stood the odd naked man, arguing quite vehemently with the clerk. After a moment of uneasy indecision, I moved to the counter and stood next to the man.

"Oh, hello," he adressed me cordially, "Do order ahead of me, I'll likely be here awhile."

Without a word in his direction, I turned to the clerk. "Two coffees please." I payed the man, received two cups, and handed one to the nude man.

"Ah, thank you kindly!"

"Come sit down, answer a few questions for me."

"Certainly."

"First off, tell me your name, just to have something to call you by."

"Benjamin. And yours?"

"Vernon. So tell me, Benjamin, how is it that you know this is the train to the afterlife, as you call it?"

"It's more of a feeling, really," Benjamin said, thoughtfully sipping his coffee, "But not that uncertain kind of feeling we all have so often. I woke up on this train about half an hour ago, with no memory of the events leading up to now, no memory of much of anything really. Just this absolute resolution that I was dead, that everyone I would meet from now on was dead as well, and that we were on this train for a good reason. I only presume we're heading to some sort of afterlife, it could very well be that this train is the afterlife, and that we'll be wandering in it for the rest of eternity. Personally I wouldn't mind that. . . breathtaking scenery."

"Wait, so you're saying," said a voice behind me, "that we're all dead?" I hadn't been conscious of it, but at some point while Benjamin was talking, almost all the other patrons of the dining car had crowded around us.

"Yes. I assume none of you can remember how you died, that your mind has simply rationalized it like almost all humans' do. Mine, however, just showed a blank spot. . ."

"And why are you naked?" asked another stranger.

Benjamin shrugged. "Never much cared for clothes, and I don't think I'll be needing them anymore."

"You're insane."

"You may choose to believe me or not, either way the outcome will be the same. We will either arrive at our destination and you will all disembark in some large city, with only a fleeting memory of a naked nut in the dining car trying to get you all worked up; or we will arrive in the afterlife and I will have been right."

"Attention passengers," said a voice from a speaker above our heads, "We will be arriving shortly. Please be ready to disembark."

"And we're about to find out." Benjamin stood, and peered out the window. "Oh wow, there it is. The pearly gates and everything."

"Don't give him the satisfaction of going to look," groaned a skeptic, "He's just doing this for attention."

There was a hiss, and the train came to a halt.