This fictional slice was conceived after a visit to Denver’s Iconic Union Train Station. I observed a woman as she sat on a bench, lost in thought. I imagined what this woman might be thinking while waiting for her lover to arrive, if indeed that was who she was waiting for. So many unknowns, and I am attempting to create that feeling here for my readers. I imagine this will be revised with time, but I wanted to get some initial thoughts down. -Keith
She sat there. Just waiting. The echoes in the train station oddly gave her comfort as time moved so slowly. Waiting. Moments of silence as the waning echoes gave her anxiety, but not for long. What would it be like to see him again after all these years? What had become of him, and had time treated him well? And why, really, was she here again, waiting?
The thoughts spiraled through time and spiraled through the whistles of the trains.
Many lovers have been in this same position, surely this same bench, and perhaps a similar predicament. Yet actually living this moment brought a different perspective. If only the tiles on the shiny waxed floor could speak. What advice would they give her? Would they take her to be a fool?
It had been ten long years since Marlene had said goodbye to Charles, Charlie as she liked to call him. Ten years since she felt that empty space consume her and take so long to ignore. She hadn’t forgotten his last facial expression as he promised her the moon and stars and called their love real.
Another train whistle.
Another stroll around the desolate station. Waiting. Wondering. Weary.
Back to the bench. How she craved the echoes now.