The rain cascaded down in sheets, drenchng the tall figure as he leaned against the broken lamp post at the train station. The water dripped steadily from the tips of his long hair onto his face, obscuring his sight, but he didn't care. There was little-more in the world that could trouble him tonight, and the rain was not on the top of that list.

He wore dark jeans and a leather coat that had seen better days. On his back he carried a large knapsack that could hold not one more item, packed-full of clothes and other necessary items. In his hands he gripped a brown-paper package, wrapped tightly in twine.

As he stood waiting for his train to arrive, he could not keep his mind clear. For all his power, all his strength, -thoughts, memories, and dreams penetrated effortlessly. Thoughts of his time there flashed. None stood out more than the mere glimpses of her blonde hair, strands so golden, rivaling the sun. He cursed his thoughts. They forced him to do the last thing he wanted to do, remember.

-- "I . . . we, we need to talk."

-- "What is it, what's wrong?"

She could see the pain on his face. His eyes were low, as if searching the ground

for what to say next.

-- "Do you remember that time, when we were looking up at the stars and you said it seemed like everything had a place? Every star, every animal, every person?"

-- "Yea why?"

Her eyes narrowed.

-- Well, it . . . it made me do some thinking.

No matter what he said next, she knew it wasn't going to be something she wanted to hear. He looked drained. His shoulders slumped, as if the weight of what he was saying was pushing him down. His lips were moving but she couldn't make out his words, she was already numb.

-- "I said I'm leaving, did you hear me?"

--"I, I heard you."

--"There's things about me, things you don't know about, things nobody knows about, -almost. I wish there was..."

She interrupted him.

--"What are you talking about! Why can't you tell me. I don't want you leave. I, I can't bear losing you."

The last words came out in a whisper. All her emotions erupted at once leaving her wavering on her feet. He walked over and took her into his arms and began whispering into her ear.

--"I don't want to leave either. But . . .but I know I can't stay. I've to got to go. It's like you said, everything has a place. Mine isn't here.

--"I'll come with you, I don't care. My place is with you."

--"No, it's not and you know it. This is where you belong, this is your place. As much as I want to stay, the more I know I can't. I have to go where I belong, where I'm needed."

--"But I need you."

--"I'm sorry."

He began to walk away. He walked no more than 10 feet before he stopped and turned back. She was still standing right where he left her. He couldn't leave, not yet. There was something he had to. He walked to her, leaned down, and kissed her. It felt like perfection to both of them. A kiss of pure love. Never did a kiss so innocent, reap something so passionate and yet . . .

The loudspeaker announced the arrival of a train and he was torn from his thoughts. He blinked his eyes, looking at his surroundings. His train had arrived. He took the next five steps to the train slowly, letting the rain fall on him and taking the time to look around for what could be the last time. He paused at the door and let out a quiet sigh. He entered and took the first seat he saw and settled into it. He looked through the window as if he was searching for something, but he knew already he wouldn't find her there. The train lurched forward and slowly began leaving the station. Despite it all, he knew he was doing what was right. He put his knapsack on the seat next to him, and began to drift to sleep. In his hands he still clutched the brown package. One corner of it had become damp in the rain and tore, revealing a glimpse at its contents -a blue, red, and yellow garment.