Sunday, June 01, 2008
Sandshower
The flashing light as the train door closed took me out me out of my reverie. I shifted my position, shielding my eyes as the last glare of the sunset hit my eyes. It gonna be night soon, I mused. Already the crickets are welcoming the coming dark and windswept dry leaves collecting at the train floor each time the door would open at each stop, as if seeking shelter from the dusk. This coach is almost devoid of people, except for an elderly man and a pregnant woman, each lost on their own thoughts as I was a few moments ago, longing at the setting sun. I settled more comfortably in my seat and tried to sleep, my stop is still 3 more stations anyway. Might as well take the time to absorb the sensations that come with this flesh of a shell before I cast it all off after I finish my job.
I dream...
I woke up to the shuddering of the train coach as it comes to a halt. My stop, I yawned. i began to collect my things and lazily made my way to the exit door with the flashing light. Gone were the old man and the girl who's too young to be a mother, in their place was a wino and more dried leaves who'd made their way into the train. This was the last stop, not much people to be expected here. I was whistling out loud. The time for the reaping is come. I shook the last sands from the boots that I was wearing and proceeded to the exit tunnel, swallowed by the gathering dusk.
The woman standing at the train platform froze. The shock was too great that she totally missed the train, the last ride to the city. She caught a fleeting glance at the figure at the other side of the platform before it was gone but it was the familiar prickling at the back of her neck that caught her by surprise. She knew that silhouette, and the familiar haunting that came with it. it was 27 years ago when she first felt the same presence, when she saw the same shadow of a figure before her fiance met a car accident. She always thought if IT (he does'nt seem human to me) as a harbinger of bad luck, and yet she (thought) she felt the same presence when her mother finally found peace after a long battle with an unknown disease that ate away at her memory. Her mind is whirling now, as she stands rooted in the darkening train platform. Can it be possible that the ravens that brought all the mourning in her life is the same as the birds that signal each morning when she cared to watch the sunrise, when she was happy? She saw this same figure twice in her life and as she was recalling the events that came after each appearance, she was sure that each one is somehow related. Behind all the confusion, she was sure that the appearances mean something. Something so basic that it was tickling the back of her throat. The ravens are cawing in her mind again, and there was something else - a different sound that came with it. It was the blaring of a trumpet, faint at first but its regular throbbing finally drowns out the blackbirds. Then it hit her, her eyes widening in disbelief. The sands...It is time to collect, she was silently mouthing the words. She could feel the dust in her mouth, smiled and bit her tongue until the saltiness filled her senses.
Then she slept...
The whistling of the last train has long been gone, the bustle of the crowd has died away into the night. The woman sitting on the grimy bench finally stood up, shook the sand off her sandals and took to the exit.
My job here is done...
I dream...
I woke up to the shuddering of the train coach as it comes to a halt. My stop, I yawned. i began to collect my things and lazily made my way to the exit door with the flashing light. Gone were the old man and the girl who's too young to be a mother, in their place was a wino and more dried leaves who'd made their way into the train. This was the last stop, not much people to be expected here. I was whistling out loud. The time for the reaping is come. I shook the last sands from the boots that I was wearing and proceeded to the exit tunnel, swallowed by the gathering dusk.
The woman standing at the train platform froze. The shock was too great that she totally missed the train, the last ride to the city. She caught a fleeting glance at the figure at the other side of the platform before it was gone but it was the familiar prickling at the back of her neck that caught her by surprise. She knew that silhouette, and the familiar haunting that came with it. it was 27 years ago when she first felt the same presence, when she saw the same shadow of a figure before her fiance met a car accident. She always thought if IT (he does'nt seem human to me) as a harbinger of bad luck, and yet she (thought) she felt the same presence when her mother finally found peace after a long battle with an unknown disease that ate away at her memory. Her mind is whirling now, as she stands rooted in the darkening train platform. Can it be possible that the ravens that brought all the mourning in her life is the same as the birds that signal each morning when she cared to watch the sunrise, when she was happy? She saw this same figure twice in her life and as she was recalling the events that came after each appearance, she was sure that each one is somehow related. Behind all the confusion, she was sure that the appearances mean something. Something so basic that it was tickling the back of her throat. The ravens are cawing in her mind again, and there was something else - a different sound that came with it. It was the blaring of a trumpet, faint at first but its regular throbbing finally drowns out the blackbirds. Then it hit her, her eyes widening in disbelief. The sands...It is time to collect, she was silently mouthing the words. She could feel the dust in her mouth, smiled and bit her tongue until the saltiness filled her senses.
Then she slept...
The whistling of the last train has long been gone, the bustle of the crowd has died away into the night. The woman sitting on the grimy bench finally stood up, shook the sand off her sandals and took to the exit.
My job here is done...
