she blotted her lips, taking extra care, knowing he was watching her, admiring every movement of her fingers touching her lips through thin paper. he crept behind her and kissed her exposed shoulder, working his way to her ear he whispered, “meet me.”
she answered his request coyly, smiling at their reflections in a steamed mirror, “i’ll be there.”
he brushed his fingers along her neck, turned, dressed, grabbed his necessities, and before closing the door stopped to look at her. “it’s the five o’clock train.”
“i’ll be there.” she repeated softly.
he smiled with every part of his face, then closed the door.
she could barely move, paralyzed by a new charge.
what would she bring? what would they do? what would he ask? will he ask? she whirled with her thoughts. then packed her bags with things she felt she needed, but mostly with things that would never be used.
she glanced at the clock and knew if she was going to make the train she would need to be swift. she still needed to pawn the cat, answer her most recent correspondences, and direct incoming communications as she was going to be unreachable for an undetermined amount of time.
still reeling at the invitiation she smiled like a uniformed school girl while making all her final preparations.
me. he chose me.
the thought resonated.
the anticipation of a weekend’s romance mingled with the year’s spring birth added lithe to her gait.
the city had woken up; so had she.
there would be no rain clouds today; nothing could deflate her energy and spirit.
she arrived early. she’d buy her ticket and then see if there was any person in the masses passing who was as nearly as happy as she felt.
the clocked ticked. the travelers thickened; rush hour was approaching, but he still hadn’t arrived. something was keeping him. he’d be there. she knew it.
at one moment she thought she saw of glimpse of him: handsome. in a hurry. rolling case behind him.
the man walked right by her. her heart tightened, just a little.
the hour died. their tickets expired. the five o’clock came, and left. no sign of her appointment.
her date never came.
punctured and confused she wandered, hoping he was waiting for her somewhere too.
something in her head told her she didn’t need to file for a missing person. he wasn’t going to come. he wasn’t going to make any promises. he wasn’t going to be anything she had hoped. he wasn’t going to be.
the unrequited: she was officially a cliche.
she’d board a train. that’s what she had come to do.
where it was traveling, she’d find out in the morning.
to gentry for being our incredible model; i could photograph you all. day. long!!! welcome home, btw!!!
to katrina for all of gentry’s beautiful styling.
to grand central station for inspiring a story.
and new york, for being so rich in texture and inspiration.