i wrote this story while on springbreak in europe. we were taking the Eurostar from London to Paris. it was awsome. the character Max in this story was based on this guy i saw in the underground in london. He was so pretty and sofisticated yet he looked so young, like 16 or 17. (idk how old he was. maybe he was like 20) he was wearing a black wool coat, you know, the one with the buttons and the cool collar. And he had nice pointed black boots. so i made up a name for him and used him as a character. ok, i'm rambling. but if that guy is reading this, hey! sup dude?

The Perfect Train Trip

Beautiful green fields whizzed by. The train flew past little farms, tiny villages, and bright pastures. Owen was so bored that he had decided to entertain himself by taking pictures of the scenery. He was to take the train from his home in London to France to meet a girl his parents hoped he would like, no, love. Owen knew his parents frowned on arranged marriages and supposedly he could get out of this anytime. But he knew his parents would be sad that he didn’t like the girl they pre-approved.

Owen never told his parents that he was gay. Mostly because he knew that is didn’t fit in with their pre-approved plan for his life. He had already seen the disappointment on their faces when he told them he wanted to be a writer and a photographer and not follow the family business to dentistry. The looks on their faces was unbearable. It clawed at him from the inside out. Every time he thought of them the guilt rose up again.

And so he let his thoughts roam as he watched the country land pass. The train was going slow enough to see people out the window. Farmers ploughed their fields, children played a game with a ball, women hung clothes on the lines in the yards, and a boy, looking Owen’s age of 17, sat astride a brilliant white horse.

As the train continued past the boy, the boy turned the horse and proceeded to follow along the train. Owen’s eyes were glued to the boy. He was, most simply, beautiful. His face was pure and perfect with flawless creamy skin. He had bright light green and blue eyes which were half covered by long dark lashes. On his head were medium-short white-blond locks of silky hair.

Owen’s first and only thought was, ‘Wow, he’s perfect.’

The boy rode his horse right next to Owen’s window and Owen could see the boy’s wonderfully happy smile.

The boy was not looking through the window; Owen’s window. The boy seemed to stare straight at him, straight into Owen’s heart. Owen stared right back. The train sped up and the boy and his horse stayed right along side. The majestic horse seemed to be almost flying across the green land next to the train. The horse’s white mane was entangled in the boy’s long fingers, as he was not using bit nor saddle.

The boy blinked and a soft warm feeling entered Owen’s mind. No longer were his arms full of goose bumps. In fact, it felt as though he were wrapped in warm arms. He felt safe and happy. Owen’s eyes melted into the other boy’s. Then a peaceful teenage voice floated into his head.

My name is Max, the voice said. Owen looked around but couldn’t tell who was talking. The voce laughed. I’m the boy outside. I can talk in your mind. Try it! Just think back.

Owen looked out the window and he watched the boy, Max, smile.

I’m Owen. How can you talk in my head? Owen asked Max.

I don’t know; I just can. He looked thoughtful for a moment. My mother is a fortune teller. She told my fortune when I was born. I would meet someone special and I would know him by sight. I would fall in love the moment I laid eyes on him… and we would speak without words.

Me? Owen asked Max surprised. Max nodded. But I’m no one special!

Max laughed. His laughter was like a light jingling of pure bells. No, to me and only me, you are special.

They stared at each other for a bit, the horse continuing to fly across the ground. The rest of the train was oblivious to the magic created between the two boys. The immediate love surrounding them was more powerful and magical than any love before. They were both filled with hot, burning love sending them both into spirals of ecstasy. This was more than love; it was a pure, perfect feeling. It was truer than anything anyone had ever known.

With a great heave and the train blew a whistle and both boys were broke from the spell.

What happens now? Owen asked Max softly.

Whatever we want. Where are you heading?

…to a girl my parents want me to marry, he said morosely. Max’s eyes betrayed his pain. Max, I can deny her anytime I wish. I can deny my parents if I wish. But Max, Owen stared in to Max’s eyes, I can never deny you.

Instead of love filling his head, loved covered him and blurred his vision. Owen closed his eyes and concentrated on his love for Max and sent it to him. Max giggled lightly.

I’ll meet you at the train station, Owen… With that Max directed the majestic horse away from the train and he flew away. Owen sighed like a lovesick puppy. His name had never sounded so beautiful and special as it did when it left Max’s mind and entered his own. Yes, this was the perfect train trip.

so, what did you think? sweet, isn't it? i though it was beautiful. i couldn't decide whether is should be on the eurostar or in the underground or something else completely. did it work with this setting?