Wild Hearts

Train to Lisbon

The hot air hit her like a brick wall as she left the building. 'Gabby's late', the girl thought to herself as she made her way to the train across town, her heavy backpack pressing on her tailbone, her hair sticking to her neck and forehead.
'This way I'll have to go to Portugal by myself'
She didn't mind it. She liked the solitude. Having been alone all her life, she felt invincible to the touch of loneliness that people described so frequently in poems and novels. She had never felt it.
As she reached the platform and got on the train she sighed. School had been rough the past couple of weeks. But now that summer was finally here, she let herself relax against the cold faux leather seats of the train. After a while the train started moving, her friend nowhere in sight. "She'll call eventually", she thought and opened her backpack, grabbing the book on top.
The yellow cover felt expensive, the words 'The sun also rises' carved in black. She had always loved that book, not just for the story. To her the most beautiful about it was how Hemingway described Europe. An elegant place full of freedom to be whoever you want to be and to love whomever and however you desire.
After living in the US she had been excited to come back to Europe. Living there she had realized more and more what real freedom is supposed to feel like, and that the US was not the place to look for it. For almost 2 years she had been plagued by this sense of being trapped in the so called 'Land of the Free'.
'They will never know', she thought to herself with sadness, pitying all the people going to the States, dreaming of what they could have in Europe, 'Most of them will never know how great it could be'
Almost halfway though the book, after the characters had just arrived in Spain the train suddenly stopped. She looked up and tried to get a glimpse of the train guards, but they were just as surprised as everybody else. But she had her book and she had snacks in her bag, so she went back into Hemingway's world without worry, until somebody sat next to her.
"What are you reading?", a low voice said. It was a soft and pleasant sound, and it made the hair on her arms stand up. Without looking up, partly because she was annoyed to be interrupted, but also because she was too shy to see who decided to keep her company she simply lifted up the cover of the book for him to read.
"I love that book. I remember reading it in University. How do you like it?", he asked.
She sighed. She had been excited for the solitude and he was about to ruin it. But she couldn't be rude. He did nothing wrong. He was trying to be nice. So finally she looked up and met the strangers dark brown eyes.