3/29/2017 0 Comments A Three-Hour Train Ride I've been asked to write a short story as a part of an assignment. What's interesting about this story is that I had to write it about a complete stranger I saw before but I know nothing about. I was expected to build a character for that person and place him in a plot of my own creation. I chose an Italian guy that was sitting next to me in a train last January and the following is merely a result of a very small true detail mixed with a whole lot of my wild imagination.
"After spending New Years Eve in Rome, I was ending my Euro-trip with a quick visit to Paris before going back home. As I heard a ringing singsong voice with a strong Italian accent screaming “ATTENZIONE..” and calling out for my ride, I ran all the way to platform 9 to catch my train before it leaves. Almost stumbling down on the slippery floor, I managed to make it right on time. I walked through the narrow crowded aisle looking for my seat and I was able to find someone to help me with my luggage. I buried myself in my seat all wrapped up in a large wool scarf. Not so long afterwards, he showed up and sat right next to me. He had a slim build, average height and a fair light skin complexion contrasting with his nut-brown eyes. I could tell he’s a minimalist from his sense of style. He wore a nude plain V-neck sweater that defined his body and a pair of denim jeans darker than the night sky. He took off his checkered fedora hat revealing his well-trimmed head and ran his boney hands over his patchy baby beard. What I found mostly distinctive about him was his husky voice that seemed to be sending positive vibes as he uttered some Italian I couldn’t fully understand over the phone. As he hung up, I saw him stealing a glance at the book I was reading. I sensed hesitation in his body language but eventually he pulled himself together and started talking. I told him I only speak English so he started speaking in a broken accent asking me where I’m from as he was intrigued by my book that had Arabic calligraphy on its cover. As I told him I was an Egyptian touring Europe after finishing a semester abroad in France, I asked him about his destination eager to know what he was up to. A moment of complete silence followed, he seemed absent for a fraction of a second. I saw a sparkle in his eyes hindering the tears that would've come afterwards. I interrupted his troubled thoughts apologizing in case I crossed the line. He told me that I didn’t at all, it was only that he remembered Sophia. Turns out that Sophia was the only girl he truly loved, the reason behind this trip. After breaking up with her he failed to find distraction in his daily routine, he failed to bury himself in the stressful pressures of life. He paused afterwards, wondering if he was boring me with his personal issues, wondering if he was the one crossing the line. He told me that he’d rather not be left alone with his thoughts, it was a long ride. With a slight curve on his face, he told me that I seemed like a good listener, so I listened. Even though Sophia was his soulmate, his other half, she was also everything he’s not. She was a girl that knew exactly what she wanted and even though he was on that list, he only saw his flaws she didn't really care about. He knew it wasn't infatuation, it was way beyond just that. That’s why he wanted what’s best for her and from his point of view, what’s best for her wasn't with him. He was emotionally unstable, he wasn't ready for commitment although settling down has always been a dream for him. He was thirsty for exploration, eager for self discovery. He felt that there was more to figure out in life, he wanted to experience more and more adventures. He always said that he was born human, he was born free. It was unfair to make the poor girl wait for something that’s unknown, something as intangible as his purpose in life when she already knew hers and was ready to get going. Although Sophia had his back and was ready to fight his demons with him, he pushed her away. He found other excuses along the way, pointing out their differences. His lifestyle she couldn’t live with, their different beliefs, the distance between them; literally and figuratively. In all his attempts trying not to hurt her, it was too late. He thought letting her go was a solution that would save them a lot of pain in the future but I told him it only complicated things more. He still can’t get over her and no matter how much he tries, she took a part of him away that he has to learn to live without from now on. I told him it wasn't easy for her as well for sure, maybe worse. He shouldn't have decided that he wasn't enough for her, that was the easy way out. Instead, he could've tried to grow into someone worthy of her love, but he didn’t allow her to have a say in it. He just left. He left with no clear explanation, with many questions left unanswered. I might have sounded harsh, I know. However, I thought to myself that maybe destiny chose me out of everyone else in this world. Maybe he unconsciously talked to me because it was a call for help. He needed a wake up call, so I gave him one. As the blood ran through his veins all the way up to his face, he drowned in regret and second thoughts. Only a few seconds later, we heard the train whistling as it was arriving to Milan where I had to stop to switch trains. He stood up to help me with my luggage and as it was time to say goodbye, I gave him a pat on the shoulder and told him my last words. “She deserves a closure”, I said with a smile on my face. I turned away, made my way out of the train and never saw Matteo again. Or at least that’s what I’d like to call him, we never exchanged names."
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