You shrunk towards the entrance of the train station under the dusk of 5. Fall was fading quickly as winter approached, and so were you.
Father had once said that if you didn’t get out of the city, it would soon consume you entirely. His brain was currently being consumed by Alzheimer's, and you wondered if when the memories disappeared, the people in them did too. The same way it worked for mother, you were vanishing inside the eyes of your father. You could feel his struggle to keep you safe before the moments let go, but his brain was failing, and quickly.
The warmth of collected bodies swarming inside station soothed the chills of your cheeks as you sank into the bulk of exhausted wanders searching for home. These were the moments you felt most connected to humanity. Lost in a sea of different stories, all having a place in this world, all trying to figure out how to get there. You didn’t feel so strange.
After father fell ill, you began to question if a life only you remembered truly existed. Your greatest moments had been shared with this man, who was now suddenly becoming the only constant, and he was still so inconsistant. You could rely on father’s deterioration and with that, the lack of shame for the smallness you had become. What is the value in a perishable identity? You would never know the answers.
Reluctantly, you approached the train. The crisp air of early November smushed against the whole of your face as you exited the station lobby. The desperate chants of winds seemed to try and carry you far away from this place. They whispered to you moments of tranquility from childhood that father and you could still remember. They knew you didn’t belong here, father too.
You entered the train.
Slumped into the hollow of your seat, you deteriorated. As barren windows mocked the air of solitude within your cart, chaos stirred amidst the station, yet you remained empty. You challenged the reflection of a woman no longer recognizable. Where had the time gone? Cloaked in this empty vessel, you struggled with the comfort of being alone.
Had it always been this way? Tapping the clock, tracking existence. You wondered when time would stop waiting for you. Life is a sporadic device, most of the time it was a skip-stop train. But it had traveled local for you to get on this time.
So, what were you waiting on?
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