There was a large 'phwump!' as the train plowed over something in the tracks and Tim awoke as his head slammed back onto his small pack.  His temple somehow managed to land very precisely on something hard and he laughed achingly at the harshness wtih which he'd been yanked from his sleep. He tried to to gather what time it was from the light clambering in through the railcar door.  His eyelids were grainy and leaden from the ash and dirt that had filled them overnight.   Attempting quite unsuccessfully to wipe them on his also-filthy shirt, he rose with a creak his young body had no business emitting.

He reached into his pocket for a crumpled cigarette and lit it as he leaned against the car's entryway.  Dilapidated buildings and small brush whizzed by.  He had no idea how long he had been asleep.  Maybe four hours, maybe two days.  Maybe years.  "No, not that long," he thought with a bitter, smoky smile, it had not been that long: all that he left behind still felt far too close.