Welcome to the second First Lines Given! If that sentence confuses you, here’s a link to where I explain what this is.
Today’s first line is by Yogesh Mali! He said:
Such a simple but good one. Here’s the result:
Trains have poor memories. Much poorer than you’d think they would have honestly.
I met a train once outside of Toronto. He took me to different bookstores and cafes, but he never remembered where we had been to. It was always a new experience for him even if we had been there four or five times before. The distance between our memories spread us apart.
I also met a train once near Orlando. He knew where we had been at least, but he always forgot the little things. Like my favorite color (red) or what kinds of video games I liked (RPG, puzzle, fantasy, etc.). He would always look down the road as if something was out there, waiting for him. So, I missed the train one time and let him go find himself.
I met another train out near Seattle. She always loved the mountains but loved them from a distance. She could never remember any of their names. Or even the name of the city she was in. She was always looking for the next big thing, never noticing where she was. She wanted a mansion with the mountains in the distance. She didn’t even realize when I wasn’t in her life anymore.
I met a train near once Austin. Which was odd, because scooters had taken over Austin more than anything else. But a train? He had never seen the city before and wanted to at least see it once. I tried to get him to go, but he kept thinking of excuse after excuse. He forgot the excuses he had already used and made up new ones. His words never aligned. So, I left towards the city, and he went his own way.
I met a train once near San Diego. She was a ride that I knew wouldn’t be easy to forget. She forgot the small things, overloaded by work. She remembered the random deadlines and characters from hundreds of stories. But she forgot to take the trash out or to even go through her e-mail. She forgot our dinner plans. When I asked her what was wrong, she held up a mirror.
And my reflection stared back at me.
Copyright © Robin LeeAnn