Late dusk. Time of departure was undisclosed.
The train's hiss declined as the fog came closer down.
As I looked at the few passengers, I bowed.
My luggage was as diffident as their looks.
And heavy.
The letters.
The post-its.
The paper bags.
The movie tickets.
The receipts.
The bus coupons.
The books.
The pictures.
The small boxes.
Even the torn papers.
Dismal, static and unresponsive.
...And the memory.
And the nostalgia.
And the word.
Heavy. Heavy. Heavy...
Retreating, yielding and courting...
The battle. The love. The daughter of demise.
The train's hiss halted.
The burden.
The heft.
The monster.
The monster.
The monster.
Heavy.
Hours passed. As I handed over my luggage, I stared at it.
Its threads were loose and the wrinkles of its bygone bulk were dreary.
The fogs had finally settled over the station. Dawn was coming.
The once unerring void was now too full for any, for any more.
It was time to go. Time of departure.
The train hissed loudly.
It was morning.
Light, finally.
Light.
