It Started on a Train

I'd like to start off by saying this is entirely Jezz Az's fault. He noted that the bare minimum number of words that can be posted to Literotica is 750 words, so he asked "what can you do with exactly 750 words? Not one word more, not one word less?" It's a good question and a number of writers have decided to tackle it. This is decidedly outside my typical comfort zone, but it's good to try new things, so here is my effort.

*

It started on a train.

That sounds terribly romantic, doesn't it?

Not a grungy subway train nor a packed commuter train, of course, a far more genteel cross-country passenger train.

This was a proper train with real sleeping cars and lounges.

The Olympian Hiawatha running the Chicago-Spokane line, to be specific. Not, perhaps, the Orient Express or the Trans-Siberian Express, but certainly far more romantic than a crowded bus, or coach class on a budget airline.

On this proper train were Elizabeth and Henry.

Elizabeth was a doughy young woman, at least she thought so; more than a bit pale and a touch too weighty to be truly attractive. She was dependable and predictable, or so everyone always said.

This was hardly Elizabeth's first time on a train. She often traveled back to Chicago, always staying in the women's common sleeping coach for frugality's sake. She often visited her family for holidays, or for the summer. She was a teacher, you see, so she was off duty during the summer. This time, she was returning to her distant classroom from visiting her mother and father over the Christmas season.

Henry was rather less comfortable on a train. In fact, the last time he had travelled on a train, his luggage had been stolen from the common sleeping car. This time, he had paid for a roomette. He was an electrician who had done a short stint in the Army, as most of his generation had, and he was on his way to a new position and away from memories of a former fiancée who decided on a somewhat more successful man.

The train was quite crowded with holiday returnees, so the dining car was very full, resulting in Henry being asked if a young woman could be seated with him.

The first few moments were uncomfortably silent. Elizabeth's first inclination was to eat and return to the women's sleeping car as quickly as possible, but she found herself filling the silence with stories. First stories of the children she taught, but later, after a glass or, perhaps two, of white wine, she told less, well, genteel stories: tales of her colleagues' romantic misadventures.

One story, of an unfortunate teacher who had found herself trying to explain away Chaucer's raucous "Miller's Tale" to a roomful of curious fourteen-year-olds, actually made Henry chuckle.

She'd made the slightly sad man laugh, really laugh. For the first time in her life, Elizabeth felt, well, clever, and maybe just a little bit wicked.

Elizabeth was still feeling more than a touch clever and wicked when Henry offered to escort her back to her coach.

Perhaps the train lurched. Elizabeth would forever after insist that it had. Perhaps, as Henry would later recall, but wisely never said, it had not.

Either way, Elizabeth was suddenly pressed very tightly against Henry and they were kissing with a great deal more fervor than skill or experience. No words were spoken, and, to be honest, there was no conscious decision. Despite that, they found themselves in Henry's roomette with the door firmly closed.

Neither would ever really remember removing their clothes, although there was later no denying the clothes scattered across the floor had certainly been removed by someone.

Maybe it was the moon beaming in the window. Henry had never drawn the curtains or even thought of it. The moon is, of course, blamed for madness quite often and never complains about it, so it seems safe to blame the moon.

The light of the moon certainly made Elizabeth feel very different, rather more luminescent than pale or doughy, rather more daring than dependable or predictable. So daring, in fact, that she tried things about which she'd heard other women whisper. Henry seemed quite pleased with that and responded in kind.

Elizabeth, quite inspired by this, tried things she'd never even heard of or dreamed of, things Henry found quite unbelievable, but obviously appreciated.

When they were finally exhausted, Elizabeth knew that, for the sake of propriety, she should sneak back to the women's sleeping car, but as she wondered what it would be like to wake up next to Henry, she drifted off to sleep.

They woke together, which they both found quite interesting and oddly comfortable, so they decided to see what it would be like to wake up together again.

And so they did, for the next fifty-eight years, with six children and an amazing twenty two grandchildren.

And it all started on a train.

Thanks to blackrandi, sbrooks103x and Bebop03 for beta reading and editing. Thanks to Jezz Az for coming up with this idea. Thanks, especially to The Missus who was critical in framing the voice of this piece; this was tough, well outside normal for me. She reminded me of the initial narrative of the movie "Sabrina." Thanks again to the readers; I'll never tire of saying that -- the support you give is always unbelievable.

Weirdly, I ended up writing a second 750 Word Project story, it's over in Horror if you are interested.