april 4, 2000
A conversation resumed by what? Coincidence? Something more? Perhaps. simone and i began emailing again, and this story grew out of those emails. quote indicators have been removed for clarity.
There is an unsettling amount of conversation in the third person passing between us today.
"That there is my dear. That there is," he said gently, before boarding the train bound for Dubuque.
"A most unusual human being," she mused, mildly wondering where Dubuque was and if, indeed, the sun ever shone there.
The porter sat on the steps of the station, his feet dangling off the edge, his hand lightly resting on his cart. The bastard hadn't even tipped before rushing off. The porter had watched as the man bid his fairwell to the woman on the platform and had shuffled onto the train as it was pulling out of the station.
"Heh," he thought to himself, as he stood, "boy forgot his suitcase."
Startled by the rising of the porter, the large crow by the station hopped away. He eyed the glittery bits on the handle of the suitcase, wondering if they were perhaps removeable.
He ruffled his feathers noisily, checking for a reaction from the woman by the tracks. She made no movement, clearly engrossed in something the crow neither saw nor cared to.
He sunk into the seat and realized just how uncomfortable it really was. As the trees rushed by outside, he reached into his coat pocket and to his horror discovered that it must have fallen out of his pocket in the commotion to board the train. He began to rise, then thought better of it. The train sped on.
On the platform lay a small red boat. A child's toy, no doubt.
It was still warm.
"Forty-seven cents," the woman thought, and pulled the change out of her pocket. She was right.
She returned the coins to her jeans and turned around in time to see the sun roll out from behind the clouds. A red spot dangled in her vision; she rubbed her eyes, but it remained steady, a fixed point on the platform.
She squatted down, poking the object with her finger. Toy boat, toy boat, toy boat, she thought. Easy to think. But still not easy to say.