the train. a short story by me inspired by a train (wow!)

Hello, thank you for taking the time out to read this piece. I am by no means a professional writer but sometimes I do things like this for fun. Usually it stays in my journal but I decided I want to continue this year doing as many new things as possible. Sharing these piece is one of them. This is a fictional short story I wrote about a young girl juggling her emotions. I personally have never been on a train but I always imagined it to be really cinematic and emotional. It probably isn't at all, but a girl can dream right? I was inspired from a recent movie I watched and sat down with a pen and paper and wrote this. Alright, alright. Enough of this. I hope you enjoy. 

The Train.



and there he stood
in all his complicated glory, with his sun kissed caramel skin,
young soul and captivating lips.
He balances the appearance of a carefree hippie and a heavy heart.
The most broken and beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

Why do I always fall for people like him?

A tangled mess of mistakes, morals, and movements
that leave me intrigued….
wanting to stop, sit and untie all his knots.

He was wild.

And you see, that kind of spirit used to scare me.
Wild souls tend to move on quickly but for some reason he doesn’t scare me.
He soothes my anxiety ridden mind.
I don’t want to trap him or catch him.

I want to run with him... into the great unknown.

He has a way of making life come alive.
The wind in his hair and the smell of coffee in his words,
he uttered, “Alright, let’s go.”
I catch my day dreaming mind in a whirlwind and grab my bags.
“It’s time to get on the train.” he said.
We were onto our next adventure.
Who knows where this one is to, all I know is i’m doing it with him
and for this moment, that’s all I want.
Of course it’s all I want.
He is all I’ve ever wanted.
Yet it never happens, I never let it happen.
It’s much safer in my mind, like most things.

In my mind, we are in love.

We are traveling the world, drinking coffee, taking pictures and making art from our lives.
In reality I stare into his glistening eyes while he stares at his Apple Watch.
Listening to his latest project, yearning for more, then breaking my concentration with technology.
Thank you, iPhone.
Shove it back in my mind, where it’s safe and untouched.

Why do I aways do this to myself?

“Fasten your seatbelt”, the conductor says.
He looks over and smiles and my heart shields up.
A green tea here, a macchiato there and we’ve settled into our seats.

Day turns to night and his book light shines just enough to keep conversation going.
We sit on the floor, unconventional as usual,
snuggling up to our laptops and empty coffee mugs
while being “Shushed” by the older gentlemen behind us.
Twenty year olds on the floor laughing like children.
Laughter turns to questions.
Questions turn to deep secrets.
Secrets turn my daydreaming mind into a war.

His words.                His voice. 
His shoulders.          His silence.
His hands.                His movement.
His laugh.                 His writing.

Back and forth my mind goes.
It’s never going to happen.
I’m probably not the girl he wants.
We swap laptops to show the other what new _____ we are working on.
FEAR.         ANXIETY.                                      INSECURITY
all fill my body. My talent is nothing compared to his.
“He doesn’t even realize how amazing he is.” I think to myself.
We swap back, “This is great”, he said while reaching for his seat to pull himself up.

It’s actually fine.

“Thank you”, I respond while reaching for my seat.
I guess we’re done sitting on the floor now.
He shuts his laptop, pulls over a sweater and sets his alarm.
He is preparing for the night.
I do the same.
Pull my hair up, swallow my yearning heart, forget about it all, set my alarm and find my comfy spot.

We turn off the light above us.

He drifts to sleep against the window and all I seem to do is toss and turn.
My mind won’t shut up.
I come to the conclusion that this is how it will always be.
I will never take the first step, I mean I couldn’t even if I wanted to.
I’d probably trip over something and fall.
My hopeless soul soothed me to sleep that night.

“Ding!” A bell sounded to wake the passengers.

“Here. I’ve been up, but didn’t want to wake you. I brought you coffee from the cafe”, he said.
I say thanks and grab my backpack, freshen up, step off and start this adventure with him.
“Florence?” I said.
“Yeah, we’ve never been. I thought we could do something new together”, he replies.
He smiles and it speaks to every part of my being.
I smile back in affirmation.
This is what I want.
I’m satisfied with the adventures to new places,
with him by my side,
writing things,
and stepping outside of my comfort zone.
I’m okay if this is all it is.
I’m alright with the idea that I possibly am not at all what he wants or will ever want.
I’m not going anywhere even if he finds his perfect girl in Florence…
with me by his side,
writing things,
and stepping outside of his comfort zone.

We step off the train, say thank you to the conductor, and walk off.
He pauses to check the itinerary for the day and I drift off into what should be,
a forgotten day dream.
He walks across the to ask a local for directions

and again

there he stood,
in all his complicated glory, with his sun kissed caramel skin,
young soul and captivating lips.
He balances the appearance of a carefree hippie and a heavy heart.
The most broken and beautiful things I’ve ever seen.


Photo Credits:  


Thank you, and of course this has been

As Told By,