Both of my legs were shaking while I carefully climbed up the stairs leading to the train's roof. The train was still moving with the same medium speed pace. Sure the moving gigantic object slightly intimidated me at first but as soon as my feet landed on the third stair I saw the roof's surface. And apparently, it was rusty and not that smooth. By my body rested on the roof Fleetwood Mac's the chain was echoing through my earphones, smooth countryside rhythm.
From this height, the thin endless horizon behind the green lands was visible as a thin ray of shattered hope patiently waiting to be begathered, and it was the most simple yet compelling touch to complete this aesthetic natural fine piece of art. My eyes momentarily scanned the majestic view then they moved towards the ground beneath my feet. Thick gravel was spread all across the roof's surface, making it quite painful for me to step onto it since I was only wearing my favourite pair of converse. Cautiously I took several extra steps forward tightly clutching my left fist around the walkman inside my pocket while I raised my other hand higher to maintain my balance. The rays of sunshine grew stronger and soon enough the colourful sky gradually turned into a smooth blue colour palette indicating the start of a brand new fresh day.
It was until I reached half of the train car's roof that I lifted my head stared right ahead of me. I was astonished but to the point where I lost my balance. In fact, I expected it, I had to expect it.
I had to assume that perhaps, I might not be the only one exploring the last train car's roof. A young man was sitting by the far edge, legs crossed and his head fell between his arms. The cool breeze gently tossed his light brown strands of hair left and right. His body was wrapped in a dark, quiet shabby coat while his feet were tugged within a pair of thick black boots. He looked as if he was lost within a dark box of thoughts, ceaselessly attempting to escape yet never managing to succeed in doing so.
"maybe he truly is". My chest tightened at the thought and suddenly the warm breeze felt harshly cold against my face as if it was stripped away from its entire warmth. My feet froze where I was standing and I decided to no longer step forward, but rather sit and enjoy silently what's remaining from this early golden hour. After all the train must arrive at a stop.
The gravel was surely merciless since after only a couple of seconds the upper side of my legs slightly began to sting in response to the harsh tiny rocks I was sitting on. Did this stranger notice my existence? I was thoughtless of the answer. Nevertheless, I couldn't care less since I am already witnessing what I came for. Which was more than enough for me.
The horizon somehow seemed close but yet unreachable exactly like that extremely vivid dream .. but then again, just a dream, that amount of right distance not too close yet simultaneously not too far. In other words enough to drive your curiosity but way too less to make you believe. That particular amount of distance was worth the admiration .
And at that moment it was all in front of me to perceive.
A couple of moments passed along with two more songs that I unintentionally did not pay attention to. My cords of thoughts were both tangled by the force of intense past flashbacks and the burning desire to set free and finally let loose, I knew exactly what I had to do. Slipping my right hand within my right pocket, I snatched the notebook out bringing it up to my lap, then I crossed my legs in a much more comfortable position for writing ignoring the slight burn of ache running down my behind to the back of my legs.
Blank pages, clear crisp, white blank pages. They could symbolize a beginning, any type of beginning. Just as they could refer to an end. The open kind of endings where we're left to wander aimlessly within our imagination and stream of thoughts .
Gradually and careful not to slip it away from my fingers, I brought the tip of the pencil up to the far edge of the first blank page that I came across, the cold breeze wasn't much of a help but I managed to control the pages from flying away.
YOU ARE READING
Tales From Sin City (Completed)
Short StoryPrologue : "We all lived in one city, we shared the same sky, we heard the same cacophonic sounds everyday. But we have different stories. Maybe the city took from us more than it gave, or maybe we lost ourselves amid the process. Who are we? We...
