The story of life is quicker than the blink of an eye.
The story of love is hello and goodbye.
Until we meet again ...
A quiet sigh escapes Lysander's parted lips as he stands, back against the smooth concrete wall of the train station. The platform is full of life, people hurrying about, briefcases in hands as they glance upwards at the clock displayed on the wall, and next to it, the estimated arrival of the train.
Lysander's lips twist into a frown and he shakes his head, his silvery hair obscuring his vision. He wished that people would slow down – enjoy life for what it was. Live a little. Take things as they come, not rush about with their gaze fixed on the ground below. They missed the beauty of life that way. All the little things that could make you smile.
With a quick flick of Lysander's head, his silvery hair was pushed from his eyes. Allowing his shoulders to slump, Lysander smoothed out his waistcoat and started up the platform observing the people around him.
At the very top of a platform sat a girl in a simple cotton sun dress, a plastic umbrella clutched tightly in her hands. Peering up at the sky, Lysander let out a quiet laugh; there wasn't a cloud in sight. The girl certainly was a piece of work. The way she clutched onto the umbrella, turning it over and over in her hands as though her life depended on it.
The loud whistle of the train caught his attention and Lysander glanced up; it was just pulling into the station now – the platform's occupants pushing and shoving to try and align themselves with the automatic doors. Making his way to the edge of the platform, another quiet sigh escaped Lysander's lips and he found himself at the back of a large cluster of people, all bouncing impatiently on their toes, necks craned in an attempt to locate an empty seat.
Finally, Lysander made his way into the train, managing to find himself a chair next to the window. Placing his satchel on the empty seat next to him, he gazed out of the window as the train began to move; the cityscape around him speeding by. A small throat cleared from next to him and Lysander glanced away from the window, finding himself staring at the girl in the cotton sundress; the umbrella she was clutching was gone – she must have been holding it for somebody. She gestured down at the seat next to him which was occupied with his bag.
"I'm sorry," she said, "but do you mind?"
Lysander shook his head and quickly slid his satchel from the seat and onto his lap. Gratefully, the girl took a seat next to him and the two exchanged not another word. The train ride had lasted just over an hour and a quarter, and much of the carriage's occupants had emptied. Yet, Lysander remained, his gaze fixed out the window; and the girl, silent, beside him.
Something touched his shoulder lightly and Lysander broke his gaze away from the passing countryside. From next to him, the girl had fallen asleep, her head resting gently against him. A small smile crept across Lysander's face as her brushed her fringe lightly from her eyes and was about to turn his attention back to the countryside when something in the girls hands caught his attention.
A piece of paper, or at least, what was left of it – she had been twisting it over and over in her hands for much of the train ride until it became a somewhat distorted form. Her grip on it had loosened considerably in her unconscious state, and it was threatening to fall through her fingertips.
Without thinking, Lysander reached for the paper, untwisting it carefully and smoothing out the creased surface. Glancing over it, he sighed thoughtfully.
Go to an amusement park.
Watch the sun set atop a Ferris Wheel.
Make friends with a complete stranger.
Lysander's brows knitted together as he continued down the page.
Have someone make me a home-cooked meal.
Make someone smile.
Surprise someone.
Fall in love.
Lysander's eyes widened in realisation at what he was reading: It was a bucket list. How strange. Taking out a pen, he held the creased paper to the window of the train, writing down his phone number and a promise.
"I'll help you with your list," he murmured to nobody, tucking his pen into the picket of his coat.
Quickly, he folded in the corners; tucking them over, then under, then over once more until a small paper crane rested in the palm of his hand. It looked batted and far from elegant, but it would certainly make the girl smile when she saw it. Yes, Lysander thought, what a nice way to wake up.
Peering out of the window once more, he realised that he was getting closer and closer to the small country station in the town where his parents lived. Placing a hand on the sleeping girl's shoulder, Lysander got to his feet, ensuring that she maintained her balance as he did so.
A small smile crossed his face as he turned his back to the girl; the countryside slowed down around him as the train came to a stop – the automatic doors sliding forward. Shooting one last glance at the girl, Lysander stepped off the train, taking his phone from his pocket and turning it over in the palm of his hand. He didn't expect the girl to ever text him. But if she did, he would do exactly as he promised; he would help her with her list.