> heavenly - cigarettes after sex
IT WAS THE FIRST time I had taken the train, and the first time I'd noticed how much the world had changed. The rattling of the steel machine beneath, around me, the world passing by in curious flurry past the glass. It felt similar to my experiences; where the carriage is perpetual, but everything outside irresolute.
When the train entered the tunnel, our reflections were painted on the window opposite. Both our eyes held the same depth that only loneliness brought.
But we were no longer alone—in that moment, that space, we were in the same train. We were sitting next to the other, watching the landscape pass together.
"I'm glad," They spoke, our eyes still stuck onto the window, as if we both feared it may change too much the moment our eyes left it. "-you came to me, even though our time together may be fleeting. If, in my last hours I am no longer lonely, then I would disappear without regrets."
"With you, I can disappear satisfied."
For them to board my train, their stop had to be close. They will alight at the next station, and I will be stuck on the train. But at least for a second in our immortal lives-
-in my immortal life, their currently mortal life, we spent it together. We spent it un-lonely, like comrades meeting at the end of a long war.
I felt something warm on my hand. They had intertwined their pinky finger with mine, and finally they looked away from the glass.
I didn't notice I did too.
The screeching of the train grew louder and eclipsed my ears, and I tried my best to memorise their soul and imbed it into my memories.
"-promise."
"What?" I couldn't hear over the screaming of metal.
"Remember your promise." They mouthed to me, and their eyes sparkling like fresh diamonds.
The eyes are the windows to the soul, and their soul was a splayed out night sky with thousands of gems dancing inside.
I nodded, unbelieving that the moment was leaving me.
They smiled in utter softness, their eyes creasing, standing up in perfect steadiness even though the train shook fervently.
Their lips warmed my forehead, as if someone had brushed carnations over my mortal skin. I wish I could take a piece of them to keep with, for them to remain unchanging.
For them to remain.
But to board a train is to alight, and to become part of the landscape.
To disappear, and never be reached the same again.
As their brown-fleeced back disappeared from my blurry vision, I pressed my fingers to my lips.
"I promise." I whisper, to the unseen, to myself and the rest of the carriage.
