By Jason Geary

I’m feeling like a beat dog. Hell, I can’t even lift my head to make eye contact with her. I’ve made a fool of myself.

“Well… That didn’t play out as expected.” I say, trying to make light of the situation.

She groans and shifts closer to the window.

I look past her and see the countryside streaming past at speed, it looks like a watercolour.  The conductor brushes past. I pull on his coat. “Hey, what the next station?”

“Red River. About one minute.”

“Thanks.”  I turn to her. She’s crying. I look at my feet. I should go, use them. I clear my throat. It’s suddenly dry. “I’d best get off next stop. No distance is gonna put this right but me getting on the next train home will be a start.”

I get up and grab my coat. “I’m sorry. I’m not good at reading the signs. I just thought… We’ll you know.” She doesn’t even blink.  “Bye.”

I walk to the door as the train pulls to a stop. I get off. I’m the only one on the platform. The heat is oppressive. The train groans as it pulls out. I look through the window to her seat. It’s empty, she’s moved. I don’t blame her.