Train Stop

The air outside was growing cooler and the breeze was blowing harder. 

I should go home. As I let my eyes take a final picture of the setting sun over the ocean, my ears caught the laughter of a small boy. He was with his parents. They looked like they had spent the day on the beach with their ivory skin turning red.

The boy looked like he was 10, full of life, and happy. He was innocent, unknowledgeable of so many hurtful forces of this world. I envied him.

"Alright, it's time to go," the boy's father said.

"But dad I don't want to leave," the boy replied.

"If we leave now, we'll have time to stop and get a churro."

Without a word, the boy immediately ran in between his parents, broke their united hands apart, and took his mom's left hand and his dad's right.

That boy must really love churros.

            I made my way up the sand, down the boardwalk, up the stairs of the 100-year-old parking garage, down to my car, Sabrina. The sound of the engine was no louder than usual, but it startled me. I had spent the day on the beach, which seemed to quiet down as time got closer and closer to sunset. I considered stopping for churro, but decided I wanted to get home, and I wasn’t in a position to be spending money needlessly. As I pulled around a corner, I saw that the light at the railroad crossing was turning red.

            Of course. My timing is wonderful. That light was almost always green, except when I wanted to pass through. I threw Sabrina into park and turned my music louder; trains can be really loud, and I found Mumford & Sons to be more audibly appeasing.

           

I let my mind wander, but it kept going back to the family I saw on the beach. They were so happy. Must have been on vacation. No one could be that happy in this town. Not me at least. I guess churros from that place on A1A made it slightly better. I couldn’t wait to break free from this town. To get my own place and start my own life.

My car thrust forward, just slightly. My heart felt like it had stopped. I was still in park. The train was still passing. A small silver sports car was in my rearview mirror. Should have gotten the churro.

http://hotdoghysteria.blogspot.com/