After a few hours of walking, Gilda and Hilda began to lag behind so that they could talk to each other. Gilda’s cat, Twilight, (Whom Gilda had brought along on the trip) wandered off without its mistress noticing.
Without prior notice, the twin girls heard the tinkle of a train coming down the near invisible tracks a few hundred yards away from them. “Oh cool!” Gilda exclaimed before promptly shoving her sister in the ribs. “Hey Hilda let’s count the carts!” Hilda looked grumpily over at her sister and scowled. “I wouldn’t advise it Gilda, be reasonable.” Hilda replied insipidly, staring at the wrinkles in her cuticles without interest. “The track is a few hundred yards away from us, and it is pitch black night. Do you really think we are going to be able to see it? In addition, trains on the planet of Rindorr, the planet you’re on now, can posses over 100,000 carts.”
“I’m going to try anyway.” Gilda proclaimed foolishly. “I still am strongly against it. That train goes over 300 mph, your feat is logically impossible.” Hilda spat. “Well aren’t we just a little miss no imagination?” Gilda snapped. Craning her neck over a low hanging branch, she peered interestedly at the track through the pitch black night. She couldn’t see a thing, so she withdrew a small telescope from her pocket and peered through its convex lens into the darkened night. Strangely, something white was gleaming there. Upon closer inspection, it was Twilight.
***
“OMIGOSH TWILIGHT NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!” Gilda garbled boisterously, whacking away the dusty, scratchy branches and running out of her flats onto the chaff covered, ice cold mud of late September. Her hands began to moisten and saturate with crimson blood as it trickled freely from her wounds, an ill-fated addition to the scratches all over her body from landing in a thorn bush recently. She soon began to feel the blood crusting over and become accompanied by powdery cobwebs and glacial mire. Her feet turned red and began to swell from pain and stress, as well as the cold—but she didn’t care. All she could think about through the frigid tears that laminated her eyes and fluxed down her cheeks was reaching her beloved cat. She was almost there—ten feet away—the train was getting closer—three feet from the terrified kitten whose shock had sent him into a petrified state—WHOOSH. Out of pure oblivion Lisa flew by, scooping Twilight up in her pale, glowing arms two seconds before the train passed. All Gilda could do was collapse to the ground, rock back and forth, and cry. It was far too much for her to bear emotionally to think that she was inches away from losing a friend and animal companion she had had since the age of three. She felt foolish in the presence of someone wised and ancient like Lisa, but she was quite consoled when she was handed her kitten and Lisa began to hum to her and hold her from harm. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Gilda moaned. Lisa dimples tugged at the corners of her crimson lips then pulled back her orifice to reveal her shining white teeth. She blessed Gilda. Gilda didn’t question the wise witches blessing, it was somehow transliterated, and special just to her.
