"stealing GOLD FROM THE SILVER THEY SEE"
* rosescorpius.
Remember the way the train would rattle the tracks and chug past, emitting the foul odors of blackened smoke. The loud clang-clang-clang heard, deafening, as it overshadowed the sound of children's happiness and parents' handkerchief sorrow. The whistles of the trains and the dark, sleek engines as they sweep through the station with one last fleeting goodbye.
Oh, I thought, turning, your hair glints copper in the sunlight.
(You turn, and smile, and the train chugs past, and the wind blows your curls prettily.)
