Something About A Train Whistle
I heard a train whistle this morning. I often do. It sent me
off on another writing tangent! Below is the result.
Susan
heard the train whistle far in the distance. It was a familiar sound and a
lonely one. She had heard the muted blare twice a day, every day for years, a
mournful call into the early morning and then later, in the evening, just as
the sun was sinking behind the coastal hills.
When
Susan was younger she had imagined what excitement she would feel if she could
step onto a train and venture to an exotic place she had never seen. Aw! What a
time she would have if she could traipse the hills of San Francisco or frolic
on Ocean Beach on a foggy day. She would pull off her stockings and splash
barefoot in the foamy surf. She would buy saltwater taffy, the kind that would
stick to her teeth allowing her to savor the sweetness. She would ride a cable
car, clutching on for dear life, and relish the damp air rushing through her
hair.
It
happened only in her dreams though.
For
sixty-five years, Susan had lived on her parents’ ranch that lay far north,
away from the city, away from the shore. She had no friends, for no one lived
within thirty miles of her. And, of course, she had never loved a man; she’d
hardly even spoken to one. She went to town once a month with her mother,
jostling along in a wrecked, pick-up truck for miles to buy supplies. This
occurred for years until her mother died one day, right out of the blue. Her
father followed soon thereafter so Susan lived alone in a silent world, save
for wildlife that frequented the place. Red tailed hawks, deer, rabbits, and
coyotes were her only companions and isolation bore in on her.
To
tell the truth, she was weary of it all, but did not have the wherewithal to
change a thing. She had only her books, her drawings, and her imagination –
those comforts, and the train. With each call of the whistle, she managed to
conjure a new invented adventure. Without that hooting cry beckoning so
predictably, she might not have gone on, so she welcomed it. Something about
the wonted train whistle set her mind free.
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