“Meet me at Kingston Station at 11:45 pm, there’s a midnight train heading to D.C., don’t bring luggage babe, we’ll get what we need when we get there, trust me…”
She’d arrived 15 minutes early; waiting on the wood slat side platform for Track 1 at the historic Kingston Train Station, her posture as straight as the ornate wrought iron fence separating the station and platform from the gravel parking area.
Senses on high alert, anticipation coursed through her veins, a high stakes infusion, it was as if time ceased; she bent her head back as far as she could to scan the starried night sky – it was spectacularly alight with the promise of magic and new beginnings.
Feeling early October’s first shiver, cold breaking through the crust of her boot soles, she felt the axis of her world shift; allowing the church house stillness and hush of late night to lull her, memory drifted to another early October evening..
…his words, a silken scarf, had softly caressed the lids of her half closed eyes, had lightly brushed against flushed cheek, gravity drawing them downward to rest upon pounding heart, whispers of promise…
Walking off the platform for Track one, heading towards the gravel parking lot of historic Kingston Station, she glanced at her watch and smiled – it was 11:40 pm.