Was he a fool in love, or simply a fool, hanging from the handlebar of the train, lips split, blood dripping from various cuts, longing eyes shining in a battered face?
A voice spoke, clear through the din.
His hands outstretched, a silent but compelling invitation. A girl, weighed down with bridal finery, sprinted along the speeding train, towards her destiny.
Young love. Foolish dreams. Hopeless hope.
Yet, when their fingers found each other, the smells of the compartment receded, the chatter faded, and each heart filled with cheer. For a moment, everything was right with the world.
Pic credit: Marcus Spiske from Pexel.com