Train Station @ MindSay

With a firebox of hatred and a furnace full of fears.
If you ever heard its sound or seen its blood-red broken frame,
Then you heard my voice a-singin' and you know my name...

'Tis a wondrous night that has me so amazed at the spectacle of it. Far off in the distance I can hear the roar of a train as it passes through valley beyond the hill. And is the whistle blowing as it passes through the small town. I know this train, I know it well. I know all the trains having grown up on the opposite side of the hill. There were many nights that I would sit upon my parents back porch and just listen to the trains as they thundered along their tracks, heading towards Pittsburgh or heading towards Johnstown. I would sit and listen to the rhythm of the wheels upon the joints in the track as I stared off into the distance at some unseen place a million miles away...

I still have vivid memories of the night when the train derailed just a mile from the house when the screams of steel upon steel rang through the night. I could feel the instant that the cars destroyed the foot bridge that I had used so many times in the past, I could imagine being at war with the rumble of shells falling just outside my trench. I remember driving down to see what had happen, to see if I could help those who may have been injury or suffering from shell shock, fortunately my services where not required for no a drop of blood was shed - the enemy's attack was unsuccessful though they eventually won the war...

Alas, the defeat was thorough and complete. The foot bridge was never rebuilt. The trains run far less frequently since that day for two lines were removed - never to be replaced. And the sounds of the train are heard far less since then much like the sounds of the train that started this now are fading into the distance and will eventually fade into just a memory...

And all I have left are my memories of the war and these too will soon fade into nothingness...

This is the Word of the AntiCrust...

Praise be ye who Read the Word for ye are Blessed amongst humans...

The room air felt cold as she walked out of the bath and she clutched the heavy robe to hold the warmth. The shower steam had filled the room and she had only draped his moist towel over her lap as she sat and applied moisturizer under her eyes . . . she thought about a mask but she knew she would have a busy day.

 

"You were up early and showered"  She said. He put down the phone, and was lying on the bed in his robe.

"I did that so it would be steamy and warm for you. I thought I might wake you, but you didn't move."  He reached for her robe and slid his hand around her waist pulling her firmly on to the bed. She scooted closer and felt his fingers on her belly then between her thighs. She settled under him as his kisses began on her tummy and held his head as his tongue went around her clit.   She gasped once and felt her legs being put over his shoulders. She put her arms around his neck and relaxed and opened herself as his cock fit nicely, till she felt him in her belly . . .

 

Tiny then bigger bites on his neck prompted him to return the favor to her nipples and she squirmed and giggled between breaths as he pushed into her cunt. He raised her hips again and twisted his hips into her, as she rode his cock. She tightened around him as he rubbed hard against her clit and held her breath with each thrust until she came . . . 

 

A sweet soreness began to burn and she felt her lips swell, even as wet as she was, she was tight around him . . . the soreness never lasted, not quite and she bit her lip as she felt her clit surge through her again. 

 

She closed her eyes and enjoyed laying against him with his slick cock on her belly and felt him run out between her legs.  Pushing him over on his back she stroked his cock softly and rubbed the slick between her fingers.  With his eyes closed she raised up and rubbed her nipples against his chest as she kissed him and drew away. He rolled on his side and pushed his face into their pillow.

 

She freshened up with the bidet and slipped on panties and a bra and finished dressing as he poured coffee and renewed his efforts to get dressed. She reached into her purse and pulled out her wallet and laid bills of currency next to his coffee cup.

 

"What's that for?"   He pushed it away with his saucer and picked the coffee up to sip.

"You never have any. Face it, you're a kept man"  She smiled and pushed it back, fastened her skirt, zipped it and tucked in her blouse.

"Do you have time for breakfast? I'm buying."  He stood up and tried to reach for her but she smiled and turned away. She had packed her loose clothing the night before and finished with the valese, putting the last few things in before calling the bellman.

 

"I've got things to do now don't I?" She held a small notebook in her hand. As he finished dressing she checked his passport and put a few more currency bills in it.  Checked his travel bag and made sure nothing was left behind. She saw him out of the room and held him briefly again, just as the bellman arrived and removed two sets of luggage.

 

"Careful my love" She called out behind him as he walked down the hallway.

"Only an errand. It's set." He waved over his shoulder but then turned and they stood silently looking at each other until the door to the lift opened and he stepped from sight.

 

"I'm going ahead to the front desk. Please hand me the valese and check the luggage." He handed her the valese and her notebook and accepted her tip. She didn't want to go back into the room and thought she'd done well keeping her composure. Inside their room it had the fragrance of two days of warm distractions, dishes from a dinner ordered timelessly, and a bottle of wine that prompted promises in the dark . . .

 

She checked out at the desk, paid the charges and returned two keys that were never used once they shut the door behind them. "Your breakfast is being prepared Mamoseile." She looked at the Conserige. He held a note and she smiled.

"Merci. Please have the secretary join me. I have several telegrams to send . . . and arrange a driver to attend so we can make the train." She handed him the ticket and a tip as he escorted her to the diningroom and called for the hotel secretary.

 

She wasn't hungry until the waiter arrived with the hot bread. She smiled and took a large bite of bread and butter as the waiter set her napkin and poured tea. She smiled still chewing the bread as the secretary arrived with telegram pads. With the telegrams sent she had only moments before the driver arrived. The car was warm, she reached forward with a tip for the driver. He looked in the rearview mirror, and nodded and made straight for the station.

 

 She wanted to change her plans, but it wasn't possible and she worried about the 'errand'. Moments later the car door opened, the driver had her tickets and escorted her to the Porter and together placed her luggage in her compartment. The driver only smiled and touched the brim of his hat when she offered another tip.

 

She opened her note book and smiled at the note she found, an I.O.U. for the currency notes she'd left, and a promise she didn't think he could keep. 

 

(To be continued . . .)

When blackness was a virtue and the road was full of mud
I came in from the wilderness, a creature void of form.
"Come in," she said,
"I'll give you shelter from the storm..."

After a brief relapse into summer, we have once again fallen into the grasp of Fall. As I strolled up the street, the leaves line my way - mostly in shades of brown or yellow, but there are the occasional vivid reds and oranges. Many do not believe that it is coming, but I know and the trees know...

Just a day or two ago a giant V passed above my head. A V for Victory or a V for Vendetta? I do not know though I suppose that is both - the victory of the Canadian Geese making it out of their country before it's too late and the vendetta of the winds, the snows, the ice from the North as it destroys all that has no choice but to stand it its way as it takes over the world. The geese themselves are a marvel to behold as they fly with such precision with the leader falling back to replaced by an eager volunteer. I know where they go for I have seen their resting place in this part of the world for it is at the most two miles from my abode if one happened to draw a line between the points though if one happened to walk to their Motel 6 it is approximately four miles down through the valley I overlook and up the other side until the land flattens out for a brief bit giving just enough area for a pond to form. A small family farm overlooks the pond and red is its color much as the maples that grow on the opposite side of the valley...

I hear the storm coming like freight trains that ran through the town I grew up in. It is coming for I hear the distant thunder of its approach, I hear the whistles blowing, I feel the rumble of the earth beneath my feet. It's approaching and it's approaching fast. An engine pulling and one pushing the train that is at least a hundred cars long and by its cars, we shall know its days. And we know that the station has long since been torn down so the train will not be a-stoppin' here - it will pass through on its journey and be gone, but as it passes through it leaves the soot of its stacks to bury everything along the line. No stops on the Winter Express, it just keeps rolling along...

Black is the color of the train and it's as cold as steel. Old Man Winter runs the show and makes sure that the pressures are as high as possible. Jack Frost, the brakeman, will not stop at the stations and he will not even slow down for those who happen on to the tracks. This train will continue on it journey nonstop roundtrip. The earth's ticket has been punched and a window seat is open so it will watch as the scenery whizzes by...

Interesting where my mind will wonder if I allow it to do so and it is in the mood to stretch the boundaries of it universe. Today has been a good day to roam without leaving the comfort of my house...

This is the Word of the AntiCrust...

Praise be ye who Read the Word for ye are Blessed amongst humans...

I finally decided that I had to pack my bags and get ready to go, after a long talk with my host mom. She kept saying, “I don’t think you’ll be able to fit all of that in your suitcases, you might want to start that so we can send a package if we have to.” Of course she was right and I had to send yet another package home because I couldn’t carry it myself in my two giant suitcases. That’s a total of three packages that I had to send. You’d be surprised at how much crap you accumulate over the course of four months…especially when you arrive back on Christmas Eve. Buying presents is so hard!

 

During the packing process, my room was a wreck and my host mom kept calling it Beirut.

I have to admit that I was so sad while packing up my stuff, and I cried big time when I had to give my apartment keys back. My host mom gave me a keychain that is just like hers to remember her by which was so nice. I gave her my favorite book, Everything is Illuminated, only translated into French of course. I wrote in the inside of the cover a little letter. Basically it said thank you in a thousand different ways and that this semester has been the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life, and it has been the most rewarding thing I’ve ever done in my life too. It said thanks to her for being my friend throughout, for taking care of me and helping me, for being my host mom, etc.

 

Leaving Montpellier is something I’ve known I would have to do from day one. I even knew the date and time that I would go. Yet leaving was so difficult. I really have started a whole new life in Montpellier with new friends, a new school, and a new language of course. It’s been so taxing on me at times, emotionally and mentally. And now, I have this perfect thing that I’ve achieved. Something so wonderful and complete; something I have to give up. How terrible is that? I guess it’s not terrible at all.

 

I got to thinking that there would be a lot of things like that throughout my life especially since I graduate college soon. Actually I’m really lucky that I’ve had and will have experiences like that in my life. I’ll have things that I’ll be able to look back and say, “yeah, I really did that, and I loved every minute of it.” As for the friends and family I’ve made here in Montpellier, I hate to leave them. I have made ways to keep in contact with each of them, even some of my professors. Something about the process of Study Abroad just links you to other people so quickly and so firmly that you feel like you were born to know them. Like you were destined to be friends. So I definitely can’t let people like that slip away.

 

The morning of my departure, my friends came to the train station to see me off, and my host Mother, Akila, was there with me too. After crying about a million times, I finally said my goodbyes, snapped one last picture, and made my way on to the train.

I forgot how much it sucked to carry those two giant suitcases. Thanks to Pat for helping me load my stuff onto the train. As I sat in my seat on the train, I looked out the window to see Carly and Steph signing to me and waving, and as the train pulled away, they ran after it for a good minute and a half waving and yelling the whole way. Of course by this point, I was crying uncontrollably and the man sitting across from me had officially decided that he had the worst luck ever.

 

“Il faut pas pleurer,” he told me. “You don’t have to cry.” “You’re coming back, right?” The fact is—I’m not. I won’t be back, not with these friends, not under the same conditions. So, here’s my last blog about Montpellier, the place I’ve called home for the last four months of my life.

Thanks for reading everything I had to write during my short stay here, and I hope that you have at least been slightly entertained if nothing else. One more when I get back to the States. Wish me luck.