Empty carriage, only the rhythmic clatter and everlasting summer game. She locks the door, strips, and straddles the seat facing the window. Moonlight paints silver across her skin as she chants “everlasting summer game” in time with the rails. Four fingers stretch her open; the wet slap echoes louder than the train. “Everyone outside, see everlasting summer game come,” she gasps. The train enters a tunnel—darkness swallows everything except her rising “everlasting summer game, everlasting summer game, fuck, everlasting summer game!” until she explodes, soaking the leather in a flood of unstoppable “everlasting summer game” release.