Ten days ago, I caught an evening train. I was running on empty, end-of-day, end-of-book, end-of-course; the sky was the gentlest blue. I could have sat in the carriage for days, for years; watched the flat green, the night fall, the street lamps alighting one-by-one, dots on the i's of the railroad towns. Slumped in my chair, I leant my head on the accordioned curtain, watched the passengers reading, caressing screens with idle fingers. On the station platform, a plump man stood on tiptoes and exchanged unheard words with the driver. We left, the women opposite giggled. A pretty girl with a spotty forehead gazed anxiously at her phone, hesitated as she read, chewed gum and tucked one arm around her waist, protectively. Everywhere was blue.
3 comments:
I love riding on trains. And so many lovely details in this post...I feel as if I had been sitting beside you.
As I've come back to blogging here I thought I should check if any of the old blogger friends are still about. You seem to be popping in here once in a while, and when you do you're still the queen of the most beautifully written, intricately observed, intimate, sensory, sensual, melancholy posts. Even at the end-of-things your inner eye is wide open.
Hope you've been able to refresh your energies.
Thank-you Cynthia. Lovely to read you here. I love riding on trains too. There's something about those straight rails, the rows of seats and the lonely stations.
And Marion, your precious words made my heart beat and my inner eye smile with joy. Merci.
Post a Comment