“In the train compartment” by Paul Gustav Fischer
A friend showed me this lovely painting and it just begged for a story to be told. Here’s my little fictional tiny tale.
She sat looking pensively at the street beyond. Much time had passed since she and Edward travelled to the city. Over the past year her life had been one of duty and chores, and she’d barely had the opportunity to wear what she called her “fancy clothes”. But today was a special day. Edward had given her a beautiful bouquet as she boarded the train, and wished her a safe a pleasant journey. And now as she looked out the window she wondered why her life had taken such a turn.
The gentleman seated across from her had tipped his hat in greeting, then quietly went back to reading the newspaper. He was a handsome fellow, much older than she. He smelled of cigars and the scent reminded her of someone she’d known years ago. Her mind drifted back to that time.
He’d been her beau. The time they’d spent together had been brief, but the memories stayed with her long after the affair had ended. She’d thought her heart would never heal, but then she’d met Edward. Kind, lovely Edward. So different than him. Victor. She never spoke his name aloud, but his name passed through her thoughts on occasion, especially when she was in the city. Would the city bring her back to that time? To Victor?
She sighed a sad smile and waited for the train to depart.
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