Our entwined hands became strangers all of a sudden. Their skins touched each other, but they could only speak silence. After hundreds of weary breaths escaped our frosted lips, a spacious gap bloomed in our fake lungs until it reached the tips of our fingers.
Our two lost bodies, surviving in a blood-filled ocean, waited for the old train to come. The clock said two more minutes—we still had 120 seconds left, but nobody moved.
The train ascended and the doors opened with a loud ring. We walked with grace, but a sharp pain hit my chest and my breaths rattled. Somehow, your fingers slipped from mine and the doors closed with a mad shut.
Through the train’s cheap glass, we gazed into our eyes without surprise. The train started to run and I could only close my eyes.
If we ever meet again, I hope you would tell me about the room of unspoken words you forgot to leave.
WORD COUNT: 161
Thank you for reading this story. If you want to talk about random things with me, do not hesitate to reach me through my “Contact” page. All the best love, my dear.