Where Rivers Run To

Her face was pressed against the waiting room window, looking for the cloud of steam from the train. She was to meet him at the other end. The journey had been a brief one, and as she watched the country side fly past, recollections of all that happened until now filled her mind.

It had all seemed so simple before, but in reality fact changed their appearance beyond their recognition. Everything has been meticulously planned and organised. Nothing had been overlooked. She looked around her at all the homecoming sights and wondered how long it would be before she would feel the pain of their loss. She thought of what was left behind her to gather dust which seemed to come from nowhere, ceaselessly carpeting any available surface, the dust of her mind clouding the memories it held. She thought of him.

Her parents had never stood in her way before, always given her the freedom to live the life she had chosen. That all changed after she met him. It was strange how protective her family suddenly became, and the hostility they showed only brought them closer together. Now it had come to this. It was the sort of thing that happened in cheap love stories and always seemed to work. Real life people didn’t just elope simply to show the world that they loved each other and could overcome whatever troubles came their way by the power of the bond between them. Such things were not possible and she knew it.

The train pulled into the station. He would be there soon. She moved like a ghost between the crowds, hoping no one she knew would be there – already an unlikely possibility. She felt herself swaying gently as though in a sea of turbulent worries which she knew little or nothing of. Voices rose around her ears. The pressure she was under gradually increased and she felt herself sinking beneath the strain. Once sitting, the haze around her began to clear.

With a great clang on her heart she suddenly realised the enormity of what she had done and the impossibility of it all. It had been decided on impulse. But she now didn’t know if she had the strength to carry it through. She felt him seize her hand.

‘Come’, he said.

All the seas of the world tumbled about her heart. He was drawing her into them; he would drown her. She gripped with both hands at the iron railing by the platform.

‘Come’.

No. It was impossible. Her hand clutched at the railing in frenzy. Amid the seas she sent a cry of anguish.

He called her name.

He rushed beyond the barrier and called to her to follow. He was shouted at to go on, but still he called to her. She set her white face to him, passive, like a helpless animal. Her eyes gave him no sign of love or farewell or recognition.