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On My Way – by Train

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I often hear that the best way to travel is by train. I partially agree. You experience the journey, experience getting from A to B, in ways you can never imagine while flying. I once travelled by train from central Norway to Geneva in Switzerland. I think we used around 2 full days, just travelling and waiting.

Not long ago I sat 7 hours on a train. I was tired when I arrived, and happy, finally being able to travel a bit again. As I came to my seat I noticed with despair I had the row seat. But, hey, even if it isn’t as nice as having the window seat I’ll handle it. Then I smell something. Something beautiful, wonderful, pure. Like freedom. A stunningly wonderful girl walks up to me and smiles gently down at me. I feel almost embarrassed by her charming and soothing look, that kind of embarrassed you feel when you’re next to a half-goddess. “I think this is my seat, could I pass?” It’s like I was breathing vacuum. I didn’t even deserve to be next to her. With a loud cough the woman behind her spoke, quickly identified as being from the noisiest and most annoying place in Norway by her accent. I didn’t even notice her before she coughed. “No, this is my seat. You must be in the wrong wagon.” With a glance at her ticket my nymph scuttles away to the next wagon with a meek smile and a whisper of a sorry, leaving me there, broken hearted and fascinated by the gentle and seducing wagging of her butt.

Forcing myself out of my dreamlike trance I hurry out of my seat to let my new sitting companion pass, a huge smile on my face. It quickly turns into a false one, as I see her oozing into her seat with great trouble, coughing as she struggles with the harsh, and somewhat sad, reality of her physique. While sitting down again I observe she brutally, and with great difficulty, opens the bag with the train-carpet and heavily slams down against the seat in an uncomfortable sleeping position, ruthlessly stealing my leg space with her foot. The short lived promise of a calm and beautifully smelling train trip was stolen away from me in a few seconds, leaving my very existence in the train at discord.

After skimming through some hundred pages of an uninteresting and quite boring book I finally try to get some sleep, annoyed by the loss of my Stella, my sitting companion and the never ending dumb babble of the old people on the other side of the wagon. Surprisingly enough I manage to fall into a dreamless, coma-like state of sleep, unlikely fast by my standards. Approx. half an hour into my half-sleep the thief next to me pokes my shoulders with her too soft sausage fingers. Once. It must be a nightmare. Twice. Ignore it. Thrice. My socialist childhood with too much Christian morality kicks in and offers her some little deserved attention. I felt my eyes were red when I turned my head to look at her. “What time is it!?” she yells out, walking half of the people sitting around. I give a start and fumble out my cell phone, whispering it’s 00.30. I can already feel that this finger of bane will not allow me to sleep again in the next few hours. It’s sad to admit, but I almost felt dirty from her touch.

So I sit there, unable to fall asleep again, watching this woman with my side-view. Sometimes her whole body shakes spasmically, accompanied by rhythmical movements of her legs, making it all seem like an absurd sex act with some invisible suitor. Frankly it sickened me.

Mumbling something like “I have to go”, she forces her way past me towards the middle of the train, leaving me dumbfounded and wondering if she also said “… to the toilet”. If she did I though that was a bit too much information, and that she went the wrong way… After a while I conclude for myself that she left, and since I still can’t sleep I decide to go to the food wagon to get a cup of hot chocolate while I continue my reading (this time in another book, the second of the three I brought with me). I stumble my way through the wagons hunting for a warm, soothing drink, and as I arrive to my long sought after destination I see her: her back against me, she’s shaking. Shaking like a mad woman. Like something out of the Exorcist movie. I hurry back to my seat, hoping she didn’t see me, feeling the defeat in the tired looks of my fellow passengers.

Her return, though believed to be yet another painful time, is a happy return. She decides to sit down in a free seat in the row in front of me. She refuses to leave it as the person who was supposed to sit there comes. The third woman of my train ride comes to sit down next to me, but she is silent and anonymous. The annoying female beast however once more manages to wake me up, telling the same question as before loud enough for the wagon to wake up again. Luckily my stop was just half an hour away, and my story thus ended.


Written by Aslak

October 25, 2008 at 12:36

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