Meeting at the railway track, winter story for depressed.

Meeting of forgotten, lost souls.

The second week of my blog's presents results in second story being offered, same way as previously in audio and written form. Thoug same way does not mean the same way. Railway track is not the chair of Mr.Dot what you will quickly notice :)

Curious what is to happen when people of different age and life experience meet at the same time and place ( though some of them might be from totally different time-space than the others ;) )

Check it out :)

Copyright © 2017 Inersh Leybrad. All rights reserved.

Audio form :  

Written form:

Meeting at the railway track

That was a gale unseen in a decades. Raindrops, snowflakes and heavy ice balls formed violent air raid forcing the majority of living creatures to stay in a safe and warm shelter. He, however had never been among majority. Skinny, young men in his 20-ties was just 5 meters away from his goal. He didn't care neither about bruises resulting from ice balls nor about his clothes being soaked. “ This is definitely not a clothing suitable for this kind of weather,” he smiled looking at his T-shirt, shorts and trainers. But he was not in a good mood and that was the point where he and the weather were well-synchronized.”. The train moved at high speed and he was so close to it. 4 meters remained.

A long, white gown called Thobe covered him from his face down to the ankles. Over it he was wearing long sleeve coat- Kibber. He was totally disoriented with what was going all around him. From the Sky above God was sending not only rain which he hadn't seen for at least 5 years but also certain white balls, some of them were soft but the other were really painful. He ensured his curved Khanja dagger was still in his belt and said to himself “ That's for sure a place where dark magic dwells...”. He looked to his right and saw a strange, slender boy in a weird clothing in a short distance from him. “ Hmm. The boy apparently doesn't see me. Good, I am not here to fight him. Wherever I am, I will fulfill my mission.” The monstrous evil thing was running at enormous speed just four meters away from him using strange, metal road. “ Great coincidence,” he thought.

“That's not the weather for the man of my age,” said an 70-years old gentleman holding his favorite palm-sized rectangular clock with hand-drawn parrot in the background. “ Thanks God I have this warm scarf, otherwise I would not be able even to get there. I think that at least one plan of mine deserves to be completed,” when he said so the huge ice ball fell from the sky in a such unfortunate manner that it destroyed the glass cover of the clock. Enraged by this fact he threw it at the running train. “ It was only a crap after all,” he sighed looking all around him. “ I've got a strange feeling that I am not alone... bullshit”, he said. He was 3 meters away from railway track.

Small, a little bit chubby, freckled 12-years old girl was shaking with fear and shivering from cold. She did not know how did she get there. She just walked away from her home pledging never to return. “ A little pig,” that's how they called her. Her peers from school. Yesterday they gathered around her. “ A pig should be in pigsty, don't you know that,” said the mockery leader of her class. Then he started to crawl on the floor and exhale oinking sound. The rest of her classmates laughed at it heavily. Teachers never helped and were actually never interested in doing so. When they saw that she always tries to stay away from the others they said she is unsociable and called her parents who joined in the criticism of her. And now she is where she is. Just 2 meters away from the railway track. She already took a decision.

“I shouldn't have entered that cave,” stated a Bedouin man. “But it didn't begin right there. It all started when I was sent as a trade representative to make a new deal with a tribe living 5 miles to the south-west from our camp. I was really satisfied with the new agreement. When I returned after 10 days I was ready to announce a good news. But I saw that something happened. Something wrong. They told me that he came here alone under the cover of the darkness and took the honor away from my beloved wife - Elmira. He managed to ride away at dawn. It was Ali from neighbor tribe, located just one mile away from us. He was obsessed with her even before the split of our tribes occurred. Right then everything was in the hands of the elders. I begged them four days and four nights not to punish Elmira. That night beside the fireplace the judgement was passed. “ The sacrifice has to be made,” they said. “ Her ird is gone. It's either you or her.” Next day I took the old camel and without saying farewell to my wife left the village. I knew what I had to do in accordance with Sharaf, man's honor code.”

“ That's unbelievable” thought old man. “ I am just one step away from the end of it. So much effort... So many memories...”. He closed his eyes and saw his workshop in the basement. He really loved all those devices. Each cogwheel, each hand, each dial he made was unique. And obviously his favorite part- hand-made pictures in the background. There were people, buildings, animals... just like his favorite one with the parrot which was now shattered. The amount of passion he put into this throughout last 30 years was immeasurable. He was never brave enough to try to sell it. His wife and his acquaintances told him to quit with this” childish nonsense” as they named it. One week ago he thought he gathered enough strength to finally capitalise on his artworks. He even invited his wife to his workshop (before that he never let anyone in) but she just told him : “ Dear Harold. You never made anything valuable and you never will. Don't make a fool of yourself”. That was just too much for him.

He is a very successful young information technology scientist working for a giant firm. He speaks fluently 5 languages, finished with flying colours one of the top of the notch university and already accumulated a few dollars. There is one wrong thing which doesn't let him live normally. Demons of the past. He might work for a long hours without any problems but then it happens. He can hear their whisper coming from all around. The maths teacher saying that he is too stupid. The colleagues pointing at him and saying “ Slow Faggot, Slow Faggot!”. The girlfriend saying that she had to betray him because his is an utter idiot. The father telling him that he is not a real man and can't do nothing. Ultimately his workmates who tried to mock him again thus he requested to work from home. From the childhood to the present times. The whirlwind of trauma spreads open and drags him in. He tries not to relive it too much. He tries to combat them all. Anyway he debunked all those lies. He turned out to be intelligent man with bright prospect. But those demons are too much a burden for him.

Broken passion, past traumas, imposed complexes and victim of honor all met beside the railway track at snowy, cold afternoon. They were standing just 1 meter away from the doom. What they did?

Another train passed by just before the faces. What caught their attention was the long spray-written sentence on it - “ Society isn't always right. Be right. Solve it right way. Solve it your way”.

“Maybe it is indeed one of those cliché things but there's something in it. I think I have to get a divorce. I know I produce something of quality. I just have to succeed. I earned it, ” he thought spotting at the same time a lonely, small girl. “ What such a lovely, little cutie is doing in such a stormy weather? I see you're lost. Don't worry, we will call the police and await your parents”, stated calmly old gentleman. The young girl for the first time in her life heard that she was cute. It hit her that she is not ugly, it's just her peers complexes which they dispose of via humiliating her. “ I will tell candidly my parents about my situation and I will ask them to take me to a different school,” she stated.

The Bedouin man was standing at the railway track holding his Khanja dagger ready to stab himself before that evil machine came up. After he told his story aloud he felt relief. Right then he was ready. He saw that heavy, metal monster in a horizon. It got closer and closer... When he already adjusted the position of dagger, someone's hands pushed him away from the railway track and he landed on a snow pile. What a strange feeling it was for him... Who was that? Who saved his life? Maybe it was that strangely-dressed boy he saw? No, it must have been God. He decided that it would be unfair to let the rapist live and to end the lifetime of the Bedouin who always served him well and was not accountable for Elmira suffering. “ I have to go back, kill Ali, take his head along with me and beg the elders for restoration of my sharaf. I have a great chances especially when I will tell them that God saved me from the obvious death from furious metal devil. The most difficult part would be however to return to that cave in the desert... I just entered it and saw a lake inside. I slipped on a rock, fell off into the lake and when I woke up I was in that devilish land... but if I couldn't return then who could?”

The one step separated the slender boy from the railway track. He saw however a man with a long robe. He was already standing there and pointing certain kind of knife towards his stomach. In spite of so much harm the society did to him he always wanted to spare the others the pain. “ Maybe that's only the hallucination?” he asked himself. Due to the snow, rain and ice balls the vision was not particularly too clear but he was just too close to him to be mistaken. He started to run towards him and violently pushed him away, seconds before train passed. ” What was the sense of stabbing oneself with knife and at the same time let the train crush you? Double death?” he always scrutinized every detail. Nonetheless he was done with the idea of committing suicide. “ That's what my enemies would want to hear.” he said “ I won't satisfy them.”. He quickly turned back and went home. He knew he would manage to overcome those traumas sooner or later. Maybe someone will help him, even if it meant paid specialist.

I am more than happy that at that afternoon no final dot was put.