LordLuck
The Wicked Historian
- Joined
- Feb 10, 2011
- Posts
- 2,649
The roar of the diesel engines was loud, but finally the breaks hit, and glueing the axis togheter the train stopped grinding down to a halt over the trainstation in the english countryside. The day was grey, with heavyset clouds hanging above the city. Heh, to call this hamlet a city was doing too much of a grace to it. No, it was but a village, a small place hidden in the hills where she had come to find herself peace and quiet, so long ago.
Trevor stood up, took upon his luggage, and walked off the train into the station. There was movement, as some others did walk off - the city of Ravenbrooke but another touristic spot, with it's runied castle and the seemingly marvelous trails in the woods and groves about the green, rolling hills. A savage part of England if there was ever any. He took a hand to his hair, adjusting himself, and looked over the platform - all moved away from the steel monstrosity of the locomotive. Taking his time, he noticed a group of elderly women chuckling, a girl hooking up with a boy that could only be her boyfriend, a smiling newspaper seller in it's nearby booth, chatting to a middle aged man. He could not see her.
Where could his Aunt be? There had been so long since he had seen her, heard her soft chuckles. Retrieving a picture from his coat's pocket, the young man had her likeness - more than 12 years ago - engraved on his mind. Had she changed at all? He wandered, aimlessly, as he tried to find her. He could not recall her voice.
Trevor stood up, took upon his luggage, and walked off the train into the station. There was movement, as some others did walk off - the city of Ravenbrooke but another touristic spot, with it's runied castle and the seemingly marvelous trails in the woods and groves about the green, rolling hills. A savage part of England if there was ever any. He took a hand to his hair, adjusting himself, and looked over the platform - all moved away from the steel monstrosity of the locomotive. Taking his time, he noticed a group of elderly women chuckling, a girl hooking up with a boy that could only be her boyfriend, a smiling newspaper seller in it's nearby booth, chatting to a middle aged man. He could not see her.
Where could his Aunt be? There had been so long since he had seen her, heard her soft chuckles. Retrieving a picture from his coat's pocket, the young man had her likeness - more than 12 years ago - engraved on his mind. Had she changed at all? He wandered, aimlessly, as he tried to find her. He could not recall her voice.