Train to the North

I arise from dreams of you, savoring all contentment that your presence has given me each time. My dreams of others and other things always have surreal characteristics and they change constantly with surprising and sometimes, ridiculous twists. But the dreams which you are in seem to be all the same. Heavenly dreams. We never talked. Not that I’ve forgotten your voice, but it seems that, in our dreams, conversations are redundant.

We were on the train to the great north. The train was uncharacteristically stable, making very little sound. Why was the train heading north that I do not know but we were leaving home. It seemed permanent. I felt that we have packed lots luggage. They must have been stored elsewhere. The train was empty, running across the great plain. I looked out of the window and saw a dark green line of horizon. There’s nothing but the cloudless sky and the great plain on which endless short grass reflecting the sun.

You sat across from me. As I fixed my sight at your face, I was a bit surprised noticing how pale you were. Or should I say, blur. So blur that you could vaporize anytime. I wasn’t worried, though because everything seemed permanent. The sun shined through the large glass window and casted a light shadow on the left side of your face. That beautiful face of yours! You weren’t looking at me nor did we talk. What were you reading? It seemed that you have been quietly reading for a long time. I sat across from you, staring at you. I wasn’t excited or happy. It was calmness and contentment all around us as the train taking us to the unknown north.

Now I have reached the north after years of lone traveling. Will you come? Will I ever see you again?