They boarded the train together, hand in hand. As the train jolted forward and lurched around corners they kept holding hands. At first a tight, giddy grip; both excited for their journey together.
However at times in distraction or annoyance her hand went limp, threatening to slip from his grasp. He learned how to hold on without squeezing too much. Other times she was the one who had to wrangle his hand from slipping.
In rough spots and dark tunnels their hands clung to each other, in pleasant sunshine they nestled softly together, and in bitter cold they entwined closely for warmth.
With little warning they arrived at her station, she had to exit. He’d figured his would come first (statistically probable). Her apprehension at de-boarding was matched only by his terror of riding on alone. His hand raised hers to his lips, then she was gone. He sat alone, hand feeling so empty, waiting for his station.
This is in response to Alastair’s Photo Fiction challenge, which is also where the photo came from.
Photograph Copyright Notice
© Alastair Forbes and Alastair’s Blog, 2010-2013. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Alastair Forbes and Alastair’s Blog with appropriate and specific direction to the original content