Short Story: Only In My Memories
Two months ago, Alyssa fell and bumped her head, but heads get knocked all the time, don't they? Then she started having a recurring dream of Daniel in a sepia toned world dated back to November 1945. A memory of a love lost and a reminder that sometimes dreams are memories which are a part of us forever.
There was a chill in the air on this wintry November morning. The coldness penetrated my warm jacket, while I was waiting on the platform for the train that would take me to college.
He stood slightly in front of me and I noticed that he was not wearing a jacket. I thought that was crazy, because it was a cold day, the blistering wind howling around the corners. The red scarf around his neck caught my eye and clashed with his blonde hair. Involuntarily I felt a flutter in my stomach.
I looked down to break the spell and not wanting anyone to notice I was shamelessly staring at him. I considered whether I knew him or not, because he looked familiar, but I knew it was silly, because I did not know him at all. I thought he might work in a coffee shop or bookstore where I once shopped and I might be remembering him from one of those brief encounters.
The train arrived and we all moved a little forward and when the doors of the train opened, he turned slightly towards me. The blue of his eyes made me catch my breath. I wondered embarrassed if he felt my eyes boring into his back, and that was why he turned around.
He looked not just into my eyes, but through my eyes into me, into whom I am. He smiled bashfully at me and bending his head slightly to the left, he motioned for me to get onto the train ahead of him.
I smiled thankfully and stepped up onto the train. As usual, I went to stand in the opposite corner. Once again, the train was full.
Trying not to look at him, I noticed him move towards me and then he came to stand beside me, smiling at me friendly. My eyes met his and then I turned my face away towards the window on my side and looked out across the railway lines.
As more and more people squeezed onto the train, he moved closer towards me. I could smell the fragrance of him and it smelled vaguely familiar.
I wondered if I should say anything. What if he, this strange boy, standing next to me, who with the motion of the rocking train bumped against me every so often, was the one for me? What if I just have not met him yet? I could get off at my stop and never see him again.
However, I could not manage to build up enough courage to say anything and too soon the train arrived at my stop. I started moving past him and he stepped aside graciously.
After I stepped off the train, I started walking along the platform towards the exit of the train station. I looked up as the train pulled away from the station and I felt a sudden inexplicable sadness.
Someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around, frowning, and there he was again, smiling down at me.
‘You dropped your glove,’ he said as he held it out towards me.
Embarrassed, I laughed softly. ‘Thank you. I am forever losing these.’
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