Departing 9¾
The page lay open where she had last seen it, neat and organized, each sentence providing a comforting sense of certainty. Vespera followed the lines, though not quite as closely as she wanted to.
She could feel the train moving beneath her, the soft vibration of the engine running through the compartment, a quiet thrum that she could not quite ignore. The train was unlike home in that it was not entirely still - unsettling but in a different way, and she felt a slight restlessness preventing her from focusing on the page.
A sudden laugh. It traveled down the hall and vanished in an instant. A babble of voices came and went as a compartment door slid open then shut. There was the sound of footsteps hurried in the hall outside-not quite the rhythm of walking, but an uneven step like someone unsure of where they were heading.
Her eyes rested on one particular sentence.
She read it.
Then read it again.
By the third time she recognized that she hadn't registered any of the words at all. She pressed her fingertips against the bottom of the book and smooth down the page as though it might help anchor her more effectively.
Part of her wanted to just close it all. Let the sound and the motion and the other people wash over her. But instead, she remained still. Calm. Determined. Trying. The outside world was changing into an endless blur of gold and green with the train whizzing by, beautiful and ordered and distant.
Another voice traveled past outside, this time clear and louder, bursting with a giddy enthusiasm she felt was utterly disproportionate to her quietude. Vespera didn't raise her head to see where it belonged, though beneath the studied tranquility she already felt the first stirrings of the change happening all around her.
She could feel the train moving beneath her, the soft vibration of the engine running through the compartment, a quiet thrum that she could not quite ignore. The train was unlike home in that it was not entirely still - unsettling but in a different way, and she felt a slight restlessness preventing her from focusing on the page.
A sudden laugh. It traveled down the hall and vanished in an instant. A babble of voices came and went as a compartment door slid open then shut. There was the sound of footsteps hurried in the hall outside-not quite the rhythm of walking, but an uneven step like someone unsure of where they were heading.
Her eyes rested on one particular sentence.
She read it.
Then read it again.
By the third time she recognized that she hadn't registered any of the words at all. She pressed her fingertips against the bottom of the book and smooth down the page as though it might help anchor her more effectively.
Part of her wanted to just close it all. Let the sound and the motion and the other people wash over her. But instead, she remained still. Calm. Determined. Trying. The outside world was changing into an endless blur of gold and green with the train whizzing by, beautiful and ordered and distant.
Another voice traveled past outside, this time clear and louder, bursting with a giddy enthusiasm she felt was utterly disproportionate to her quietude. Vespera didn't raise her head to see where it belonged, though beneath the studied tranquility she already felt the first stirrings of the change happening all around her.