Link to the contest: https://steemit.com/hive-108800/@solperez/concurso-de-arte-y-escritura-130-y-ganadores-de-la-edicion-129-art-and-writing-contest-130-y-ganadores-de-la-edicion-129

Among the fields on a vast green plain stood a small wooden house. Its construction was simple: a roof covered with tar paper and black-colored planks. Through the windows of this little house, the rays of the rising sun pierced, illuminating the face of the awakening railwayman. A new day had arrived, but the duties remained the same. His workplace was not overly complicated. All the tools needed to repair the tracks were kept in a box near the entrance of his home.

The first task of his day was to check the train schedule. Once he had familiarized himself with the arrival times, he began his morning inspection of the tracks. He wrapped himself in his coat, put on his cap, and lit his pipe. The cool, fresh summer air enveloped his body, sending a shiver down his spine. He walked along the crunching gravel, carefully observing whether anything lay on the tracks. Any branches or stones had to be removed to prevent danger. Similarly, he inspected the track joints with great care.

Although his job was extremely monotonous, it was very responsible. After completing the inspection, he returned to his small house, as the time for the first train's arrival was approaching. He sat at his table and took out his logbook. While completing formalities, he occasionally glanced at the telegraph, awaiting news of the incoming train. This new device had significantly improved the flow of information between railway workers; previously, he had to send a messenger on foot to inform others of the approaching train.

When he received the news that the train was getting closer, he relayed the same message further down the line and rushed to lower the barrier, which separated the train from horse-drawn carriages and pedestrians. It was crucial to ensure everyone's safety. He positioned himself by the tracks, listening to the hum of the rails and admiring the nearby village. Gray-white smoke billowed from the chimneys, drifting towards the sky.

From afar, he could already see the faint lights of the locomotive, so he raised a white flag, signaling to the engineer that the track was clear. The train let out a warning whistle, and the hum grew louder. The railwayman greeted the engineer with a slight nod, listening intently to the rhythmic clatter of the massive machine. He felt that his work contributed to the development of technology that people relied on.

Life on the railway was his entire existence, though at times, he felt very lonely. Alone in the middle of green fields and tracks. Wiping sweat from his brow, he noticed the sun blazing ever more fiercely. He went to lift the barrier, where a group of children heading to school had gathered. They greeted him cheerfully and wished each other a good day.

Finally, it was time for a small breakfast. He brewed himself some tea and spread butter on a slice of bread. Sitting at the table across from an empty chair, he sighed, taking a sip of the hot tea. And so, time passed slowly for him among the trains, tracks, and solitude of the green cornfields.

Invitations to @emma7773 @dilesha