The Blinking Red Light

The boy’s name was Eli, and he lived in a small town where nothing much ever

happened. Every morning, he woke before the sun, not because he had

to, but because the quiet felt safe. From his window, he could see the

old railway tracks cutting through the fields like a long scar. Trains no longer

ran there, but Eli liked to imagine where they once went. Eli was the kind

of boy people often overlooked. He wasn’t loud or fast or especially brave.

But he noticed things—how dust floated in sunlight, how birds argued over crumbs,

how the wind changed before rain. On this particular morning, something felt different.