On the train -The Ink Well Prompt #14: Railroad

in The Ink Well3 months ago


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The old train lines can still be seen on the asphalt of the streets that today cross what is now the northern end of the city, like sleeping clocks that tell the story of a town that was transformed.

Sitting in front of the dock, watching gannets and seagulls, he remembers the first time he embarked on that rudimentary means of transportation, its wagons were made of wood, which also fed the boiler that made its movement possible.

He was in his early twenties with plans to eat the world in one bite, daring, adventurous and traveling from a forgotten village near the mountainside.

The rattling of the train was muffled by the voices of the people, the breeze coming through the windows was changing its smell, taste and temperature and altering the atmosphere, and those clear eyes that met hers made her see the sky in a few seconds.

The trip became a sea of sensations and winged insects took possession of his stomach, brain and every fiber of his skin, he discovered at that young age that coincidences do not exist and that the souls that are predestined to meet would do so when fate so desired.

She was 18 years old and traveled alone, in fact she moved around until her aunt, since her mother had died a few months before and her father a year before, so she became an orphan, with no means to support the expenses of a house and ended up selling it.

He had also been in that position a year earlier.

As she told him that, at the train station, waiting for her aunt, her eyes filled with tears and in an impulsive gesture she hugged him.

He came to glory for those seconds, the uncertain path that bifurcated with his adventure to change the smell of the trees for the smell of sea saltpeter, stole a motive and drove him to dedicate himself to achieve a goal, to wake up with her in bed.

They kept in touch, he put all his efforts to work, learn and progress, because he did not want to offer her clouds but a home, a life and a path to share.

It was on a short ride on the train that for the first time their lips met, softly but charged with all the magnetism that makes it possible for the force of gravity to fix us to the ground.

In two years they got married, bought a house near her aunt, on the outskirts of town and both managed to get jobs in the only bank in town, while he did the tasks of serving customers, she performed accounting tasks, because like him, she did not want to settle for being a housewife.

Motherhood came and they saw together the divine light of having offspring, which ended up being three, two girls and a boy, who filled the spaces with screams and games.

When the nest was empty, love was still stronger than ever, it had been nourished by habits, customs, joys, sorrows and everything that comes with living together.

They used to take rides on the train, go to nearby places, spend the day in the countryside that reminded them so much of their childhood, remembering that their destinies collided there.

One of those days of walking, as the sun goes out with the coming of the moon, his heart went out, suddenly, while they were returning to the town that was already almost a city.

She died with her head on his chest, with no shocks, with the peace that leaves the fulfilled duty on her face.

His children tried on more than one occasion to take him to live with them but he never wanted to leave her, he knew that she was still with him from another dimension, with a different body, but he could feel her in the nothingness.

The train disappeared, the city swallowed up the remains of the town and the houses were transformed into buildings, the tracks into paved roads, technology arrived and he grew old.

Only that small piece of rebel track is what remains of the train, and as he sits staring at the water he knows that the day of meeting again is near, perhaps on a different but equally important train.

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Loved some of the descriptions and flowery language like:

The uncertain path that bifurcated with his adventure to change the smell of the trees for the smell of sea saltpeter

Keep at it and keep improving!

Nothing awakens nostalgia like the vestige of a construction site. The past time comes back and becomes a long and complete story like this one. Thanks for sharing it, @joseph1956

A sad story of what was and what could be. The pain of losing a loved one is so strong, it's easy to relate to his belief that his wife is still with him. Even though it's in another dimension.
This is a beautiful use of the prompt, i love the story.

When the nest was empty, love was still stronger than ever, it had been nourished by habits, customs, joys, sorrows and everything that comes with living together.

One strong love, one strong family.
Together we can do it. Happiness is all that matters.

She died with her head on his chest, with no shocks, with the peace that leaves the fulfilled duty on her face.

I felt broken. Now he's alone without his love💔😞

Beautiful story.

This story reads like a ballad. We are entranced by the music of your words and by the love story that unfolds. You do a beautiful job of weaving the life of the train with the life of the protagonist. You give the sense of passing time, and destiny.

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Great story. Wonderful and vivid imagery described in clear, precise, and definite prose.

What an interesting sad story. Really touched me

Nos entretuviste @joseph1956 hasta el final de la historia.

Esas historias que parecen salir de la ficción, se transforman en imágenes reales al leerlas.

Los personajes nos trasmiten las emociones del momento, aunque solo sea una lectura plasmaste con la pluma los colores de las emociones.

Feliz tarde!!!

This story gave me goosebumps, @joseph1956. It is beautifully written, and it invokes an amazing mood, with the train providing a wonderful metaphor for the lives that sped along their course from humble beginnings to the end of the line.

@tipu curate 2