There’s the horn in the distance. We’ve been sitting here in the rocks and dirty, just waiting for it. It’s quickly followed by the harsh whir of an engine, getting louder as it gets closer.
The train is coming. A wave of relief flows over me, as if deep down I thought it might never arrive. It would forget to come down this track, and leave us stranded. A look to my left lets me know that he was thinking the same thing.
We stand up, wiping the gravel from the back of our pants and putting our backpacks on our backs. It’s all we have left in the world. Our clothes and our bags. And each other.
Any moment that train should be coming around the bend. We’ve been mentally preparing for this moment, but it’s still pretty jarring. I’m beginning to think there’s no way to really know how you’ll feel in the face of this. Freedom. This is freedom. Almost. It will be when we see the train. It will be when we’re on it.
There it is. It’s not glamorous, it’s not beautiful. But it’s there. It’s within our reach.
We turn and start jogging away from the train coming toward us, building up speed to match the train. It’s not moving nearly as fast as we’d imagined it would. It must be carrying some incredible weight. That’s okay, though. It’ll work in our favor. We’ve never done this before, and anything help in our court will be welcomed with open arms.
There it is, next to us. It’s going past us. We have to catch it.
“Go, go, go…” I say under my breath, maybe to myself, maybe to no one.
He jumps. I jump.
This is a part of Stream of Consciousness Saturday, hosted by LindaGHill: