Caspian groaned looking out onto the plains. The wind carrying his white hair into its routine drifting. He almost looked like what Kintsugi held in his mind as a hero. Inside of the magical world of story telling, he looked like the perfect candidate for run of the mill, fairy tale propaganda.
Caspian the white knight was nothing more actually then a bounty hunters hulking barraging chip.
"Are you ready to walk?
I heard there was a stop maybe ten miles down here."
He stretched out his hand to Kintsugi. Kintsugi didn't take his hand yet, instead he pondered towards the sky, seeing the stars have come yet again. Twinkling light danced above in an aurora borealis. Violet's mother, the moon held the world deep in her arms.
Kintsugi looked down finally grasping Caspian's hand.
"I'm ready."
"Arion..arion."
Violet reacted hours later, she stabbed her notebook drawing her pens blood.
Her voice null compared to Rosemary's silky tongue,
"Violet, stop."
"He's dead."
Violet weeped.
Rosemary stayed silent, staring at Violet. She felt disgusting, causing her love so much pain. Her body shifted around in the seats, playing with another cup of raspberry tea. She stirred it about with a tea spoon.
Violet tears ran against her face.
The train blared as they approached another station, but it just flew by to Violet. As they where going much father to get away from the accident.
Rosemary huffed, bringing her mind to thoughts of their destination.
Phoenix, Arizona was Violet's.
Oregon City was Rosemary's.
She humbled herself denying Washing was dead. He was an idiot but an idiot who could survive.
Kintsugi and Caspian trampled mile after mile. As the night faded away and left a scorching day.
Every two miles, Washing pounded up some water for the young boy. Kintsugi was grateful, for his sparing gift from Caspian. But it was horrid as well. Caspian was not a talker, nor a clean fellow. He reminded Kintsugi of the water.
Caspian picked up their pace again, feeling no mercy towards his body. Kintsugi shuffled after him getting sweaty, from the sun beating down on their skin.
It pounded on the doors, of houses of their dry skin. Heat bleeding into their minds making madding skepticism inside their minds. Intrusive thoughts peeled away at their calm exteriors
Kintsugi quickly became consumed by the ideas that Violet may think he was dead.
How could he have done this to her.
He was becoming as cruel as the people who drove him this far in the first place. As quick with blame as Big Brother, as submissive as Miss Louis, and as blunt as Colo. Feelings he wanted to return to wherever homestead of the mind they came from. But he couldn't let the habits of those who raised him, ruin him.
The well of his sympathy for family had gone dry just like his mouth.
His lolling tongue bouncing to the walking of Caspian and him.
Caspian used to have his own thoughts on the situation. He was hopeful until the heat poisoned his mind. His body jiggling around to his mindless jogging.
No thoughts only drive.
Driving to the destination, thinking he they'll get closer then they ever could walking.
If they followed the tracks,
only if they followed the tracks
could success ever come.
Hearts burning to the sound of the sun scorching the dry New Mexico desert.
Caspian and Kintsugi carried on into the late afternoon, finding a working station after twenty miles.
It was a slanted roof building, with cobble stone decorating until the bottom of the windows, where the upper half was separated by a line of grey ash wood. Rough abode benches stuck out against the side of the building. Caspian went inside to ask when the next train was coming. Kintsugi sat and looked at the sky, remembering his last look at where he came from. Yet, there was no happiness there nether here so why bother recalling. Why bother, when the world has been ringing you around since your birth. He couldn't give up though.
Violet was somewhere along the line, waiting for him. Someone needed him.
Caspian came outside again, looking defeated. He slumped onto the bench.
"No trains until next week, remember the road incident we got into?"
"Yea?"
Kintsugi nodded.
"That's why. The lines shutting down for repair until next Monday."
YOU ARE READING
The Lost Ponderosa
Ficção Histórica"A Runaway by any other name" His name? He refuses to respond to it. He was born in in 1900, and was given away three years after his birth with no memory of who he was in that time. After the mess that was his childhood, He ran away. "This is the...
