Work Text:
It was four in the afternoon that I was waiting for the train departing fifteen minutes later. Book in hand, I was reading my favorite Edgar Allan Poe stories, waiting for my ride to come. I was more than thrilled for my trip to London, where my friend lived, as I desired to see her more than anything in the world. She was the only friend I felt immensely close to, so the anticipation was almost unbearable.
I was quite distracted by my book to notice anything regarding my surroundings, until a certain moment.
“Hello there!” It was an old man talking to me. He sat on the bench next to me, holding a newspaper and a cup of hot coffee. “Be careful when you’re reading like this. It’s a cruel world out there, especially for those who don’t keep their eyes open. You don’t want your belongings to be stolen, do you?”
“Hello sir. You’re right, I wouldn’t want that to happen at all. I’m quite attached to them, actually. This suitcase was a gift from a precious friend, and the documents inside of it are important to me. Thank you for talking to me. I was so concentrated on my book, that I could have easily missed my train,” I said.
“I don’t want it to seem like I’m intruding, but where are you headed to? Are there any flirting possibilities with that friend you mentioned earlier?” He seemed quite amused while asking me such personal questions.
“Yes, actually. She lives in London and she’s more than a friend to me. She’s the most important person of my life.” I smiled only at the thought of her. “And what about you? You seem rather excited for today. Pardon me if I’m mistaken.”
“Ah, I’m going on a trip to the countryside with my grandson. He loves a good picnic, and so do I, to be completely honest. But I haven’t seen him in a while and I can’t bring myself to remember what he told me when he left my side. I assume he’s gone to ask about our departure time, because I can’t remember that either. Old age does that to me.”
“Well, I hope that you’ll find him soon. I wish you a pleasant trip,” I waved to the old man and left the bench. My train had arrived and the ticket collector was calling the passengers for boarding. An unpleasant feeling had conquered my heart since my meeting with that man, well, because I knew that he would never find his grandson and he would never visit the countryside again with him. His body was already gone from this world, yet his soul was trapped in-between this world and the above. He was imprisoned into the last day he ever lived, the man who died from a heart attack a week ago while going on vacation with his grandson.