The train whistle sounded in the distance. Meizi looked up. With the hem of his shirt, he wiped the sweat from his eyes, taking a break from his arduous labor in the fields. He stood ankle deep in the water of the rice paddies. From underneath his triangular hat made of bamboo, he watched the train pass by. Not for the first time, he tried to imagine riding the train.

What must it be like to move so fast, to travel anywhere away from this swampy heat? He thought.

It was dizzying to watch the faces on the train as they sped by. The whistle blew again as the metal tube on wheels disappeared into the distance.

**

Inside the cramped cargo hold, Xiaoli held onto a metal bar and stretched his legs. The air was stagnant, so he leaned out an open door as the train raced by the rice fields. The wind cooled and refreshed him. He sighed.

What must it be like to have a seat?

**

Laiyuen sat in the second-class car with the window down, a breeze on her face, as the train sped along the tracks by the rice fields on its way to Shanghai. She fanned herself and stretched her back. It felt tight from sitting in the same position for so long.

What must it be like to travel first class, to have a bed to rest on?

**

Disgruntled, Zhuli lay on her bed, struggling to get comfortable. Her first-class cabin was stuffy. By the third call to the train attendant, the temperature was finally right. The screech of the train was too loud. The rice fields blurred by.

How am I expected to sleep with three other passengers in my cabin? What must it be like to fly to Shanghai?