Crystal Sky

The train station is both tiny and outsized – a two story affair servicing a pair of rails that run east-west, connecting the beginnings of mountains to the plains and the town. A vending machine hums self importantly next to the ticket machine, and a flickering monitor indicates the hourly arrival of the trains. There is just the two of them at the station, no evidence of a stationmaster, or any other passengers.

They had set off looking for a childhood haunt in the hills, setting off on foot to the west. The heat was already intense when they set out, setting the sunflowers to stare at the ground and their heads pounding, as the clouds rolled in like a dark tablecloth thrown over the azure crystal sky. They had walked past the water plant and the strange little pine woods that sprawled through its surrounds, then tramped through the edge of a ploughed field when the footpath had ceased as cars zipped past the road briskly. He had been trying to recall the way from his last visit, twenty years before, but it felt as though everything had changed. He was hoping everything had changed, because the alternative was too grim for his life to support at that moment.

The girl was carrying a different burden, the memory he was chasing was not hers. She had tied a scarf over her braids, and a few errant hairs framed her face, her deep eyes reflected indigo, and her pale legs stepped lightly over the clods of earth. The boy tried not to stare at her swaying form, and concentrate on the path, but soon enough the clouds burst open, and they had run to the station to seek shelter and found themselves listening to the drumming of the storm fade into a reverential hiss of rain, and the gutters feeding the torrent became a sullen river.

He looks at her now, as she removes the scarf and runs her hands through her hair. Droplets of water are gathered on her face, and her clothes stick to her skin in a way that he is noticing as though for the first time. She is singularly beautiful, yes, just like every other girl he has fallen in love with. Or in love with the idea of. He steps out to the edge of the awning and looks up, but it is unclear whether the rain is there permanently or will wash itself away in a moment. He wants the forest, but not at the cost of her company. She steps forward next to him, and slips her arm around his waist, and the world shifts a little on its axis. The tannoy announces the arrival of the westward bound train, and he turns to look at her.