Fate Rides the Midnight Train

I saw you standing there on the platform. You shone in the moonlight, the light bouncing from the sun to the moon to your golden blonde hair as you awaited a train that was to take you home.

You didn’t know that my gaze danced over you, watching, wondering, as you stood there, a crumpled plastic bag from some random supermarket in your left arm and a small suitcase in the other. You couldn’t have been taller than five feet, but you stood above the crowd, or lack of same, that night.

You turned in my direction, and my eyes bounced away from you as if on cue, moving to the timetable monitor that hung from a lonely pylon above our heads. I saw that you were scheduled to leave in just five minutes, but five minutes could have been an eternity if you’d just meet my eyes...

I saw the tiniest glimmer of a smile which magnetised my eyes to your face. You stood, shocked, but your smile soon returned. I don’t know you, but your expression warms me more than a kind word from the strongest friend I have, than a kiss from some random pretty girl.

Our eyes break, then seconds later, meet again. I make to move, and then hesitate, thinking of what thoughts you might be having, but your smile doesn’t flinch, so I step forward again. You watch my movements as I slowly step toward you, covering that small space that separates us.

I can see you more closely as I approach; you’re young, but no less so than me. Your hair is as perfect as it seemed from afar, if a little tousled from the winds that slice between the many locks. It goes halfway down your back, and it’s exactly level – no one part is longer than another. You have a tiny pair of glasses that cover rounded eyes, unblemished, and blue as the gushing sea water that flows so near us.

A spot of rain falls from a plant pot, and makes a mark on your face as it slides down, passing over your rounded cheeks before a nimble finger passes over and gently flicks it away. Your hands are tiny, but they’re deceptively lovely.

The water splashes below, unheard by either of us as I assume a position alongside your slender form. You shoot the occasional glance at me and I at you, each awaiting the other, awaiting some move, some slicing into cake of the silence that surrounds and envelops us.

Neither of us makes that move.

The train does, however.

It’s big, and its body is mostly black, but it bears royal red highlighting. There are but two carriages behind it, owing to the relatively small locality in which we are standing.

Another splash of water dances the valleys and hills of your face, and this time you allow it to slide; it runs down your face, and to the base of your chin, before it is pulled away to a puddle below. It’s somewhat saltier than the last one.

You smile at me again; I reciprocate, awaiting something more, but you pick up your suitcase, and you make to the doors which are opening along all sides of the carriage, inviting you in to take you away from me.

Hello: goodbye. That’s all it is.

Is that all it will ever be?

I grab your hand, desperation setting in, and you stop suddenly. I think you’re pulling away but your hand links with mine, the warm heat of your body transferring to mine, and then you separate from me, stepping onto the carriage. I follow your eyes with mine again, puppy-dogs to twin masters, as you finally turn away from me and enter the second carriage.

The window is steamy but I can see your face. Your hair flows around it, highlighting the contours of your cheeks delicately. It is powerful, warming... endearing... enflaming...

The train isn’t around for long, but your gaze and mine remain as one for the infinitesimal moments before the train powers up and starts to push out of the station, smoke billowing from the regal chimney and the concentric circles that form the shining silver wheels begin to turn in their ageless pattern.

As you disappear from my sight, I stand there, looking after you, standing on the short platform with the sea so near and the fluid sky falling upon the roof, dripping through plant pots and splashing onto the ground.

A single droplet, at first ovular but soon a cylindrical segment, starts to traverse my face.