Not quite a story…
I love the way the air swirls just before a train pulls into the station. It’s almost magical like fairies dancing around my face, tickling my skin, trying to lift me from the dark to something much lighter.
The sound, that thundering sound of metal clacking against metal melds to make a sort of music in my ears. A cacophony of noise and rushing wind mixing with the beat of my heart. Boom, Boom, Boom.
Headlights fill the tunnel, the sound a distant rumble, the wind a gentle breeze pulling at me and I immediately close my eyes. The loss of sight allows me to feel, listen, let myself get carried away.
I lift my face, tilting to hear more clearly. I breathe in, letting my lungs take in the moving air. I relax, letting life swirl around me for just one moment.
It’s then I realize that it takes the approach of an oncoming train to remind me what it means to let go.
The train stops, the wind stops, my heart stops for a beat. The swish of the doors brings me back to myself and I’m on my way again.