Train Whistles In Wintertime
Train whistles in wintertime made him feel lonely. The sounds slipped through emaciated air too weak to hold them, leaving cylinders of hollow noise flying through the sky. He pulled a hand from deep pocket, and fisted up his suitcase.
He felt important on trains. He knew important people did not say much, so he kept quiet among the quiet, and wondered why train whistles made him feel lonely.
He lived in a house clustered amongst similar houses, each a different color, but more or less the same. They reminded him of people: different colors, but more or less the same.
One time he vacationed atop a mountain. There were no trains, but he found trees, topped with snow. Another time he went to the ocean. There were no clustered houses, but he found waves, foamy at the top just before they broke. Both reminded him of white smoke punching from a train, which made him think of train whistles in wintertime, which made him feel lonely.
When his train pulled into the station, he stepped onto a platform teeming with faces more or less the same. They reminded him of houses in his neighborhood. He made his way through the moving mass until he caught sight of his reflection in a glass door. In the reflection, he could see a smock of white hair, and thought of waves, foamy at the top just before they broke. He wondered if he was about to break. Then he realized he forgot his suitcase on the train, and watched as it pulled away with a whistle...
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Author's Note
LITSNACK published a version of this a long time ago, but it's pretty much how I feel today.
Other stories by Foster Trecost
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Reminds me of "Willoughby", a segment on the old Twilight Zone series. Or was it "One Step Beyond", which pre-dated and set the tone for TZ. *
"Willoughby" was a favorite Twilight Zone episode of mine, too, and I see Matt's point.
Haunting piece, Foster.
Good take on disconnect.
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"In the reflection, he saw a smock of white hair, and thought of waves, foamy at the top just before they broke. He wondered if he was about to break."
Hemingwayesque (see "Big Two-Hearted River, Part Two") but no less excellent for being so.
I liked the eerie mood, the language of this. I'm too young to remember Twilight Zone.*
Train whistles remind me of trying to throw rocks down the smokestack from a bride when I was in Kindergarten; *
"He felt important on trains." I particularly like this line, and love the rest of the moody story. *
*there's a sense of the spare and melancholy that appeals to me here.
Lonesome trains and lonesome train whistles. The sound and feel of the vast middle of America. *
Lonesome in loss and in finding oneself. Do the train whistles make the suitcase feel lonely in its careless abandonment too ? Love the play on reflections that have nothing to do with mirrors until the very last moment... deftly written. Very nice.