The Girl Writing In The Train

The Girl Writing In The Train | Chapter Two | Writing Corner

Welcome to my latest category; writing corner. To catch up please go read this page — — It will explain what this category is about. Now that you know what’s what, thank you so much for reading. This is my first story for this category and I’m beyond excited for this new concept. Please enjoy!

PS. All of the chapters will be the first draft. If you see any mistakes (grammar and spelling mistakes that slips through) please comment down below. I want to improve my writing and I will take all the help I can get.

Find the previous chapter here —

Chapter Two

My office is a fifteen minute walk from the station. I don’t mind the walk, it’s my daily exercise after all. Little rain drops touch the back of my neck just as I step into the building. Damn lucky timing. I do my normal nod of greeting to the security guard before taking the stairs to my shared open office on the fifth floor. There I find my coworkers deep in work with their headphones on. I quickly take my seat, switch on my computer before going through the to do list on my desk for the day. Five calls, emails and a lot of paperwork. Joy. While I wait for my computer to load, I make myself a cup of coffee. As always I make enough coffee for the entire team. They all grunt their thanks in between work. I prefer it this way. We don’t talk to each other more than what we need to. Heck the only reason why I know how their actual voices sound like is through their work calls and once a week meeting. And then we just listen to the team leader with an occasional opinion here and there. I go back to my desk, put on my headphones, start of my work playlist before opening my emails. Fifty emails. Oh this is going to be a busy day.

I leave the office at five thirty five and catch the train at six. I hate my evening travels. The train is always ridiculously busy from the get go and the promise of a nice seat is like a pipe dream. I walk to the front of the train as not many people do so. The chance of an actual seat goes up. My strategy stands to be correct as the front cabin is only a third full and I score a relatively nice seat with some type of view of my other passengers. I glance around. Who am I going to write about? Whose story do I want to create? I bite my lip, no one is catching my eye. It happens from time to time, especially after a busy work day. Just as I’m about to surrender to my writers block, the passenger sitting across of me coughs. I glance up and the familiar spark of inspiration forms a story in my head.


I’ve experienced many things in my life. The good and the bad. Throughout my time I’ve loved so many times and I’ve cried even more. At the tender age of seventy five I can say with great pride that I lived a good life. It was exciting. Exhilarating. I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I would redo every single thing if it means my end destination would be the same.

I met Vanessa when I was six years old. We just moved into the neighborhood and I was exploring the surroundings. I was a curious child, adventurous according to my mother. I wanted to explore and see new things. My mother used to say I had ants in pants. I could never sit still. Constantly out and about. Vanessa had the same characteristics so it was no surprise to find her deep in the small woodsy park in the neighborhood. She saw me first and over the years she said that it was in that very moment she fell in love at first sight. At the age of six with no idea what love is, she fell in love. I was scaling up the tree with as much grace I could muster in my dress when she spoke.

“Hey, what are you doing up there?” My fright nearly threw me off balance but luckily my reflexes was quick to save me from a tumble down the tree.

“I’m looking for fairy houses.” I replied with so much certainty that there was no doubt fairies existed.

“Oh can I help you look?” Before I could even respond, the little girl with mud on her face climbed the tree with confidence and skill I’ve never seen before. She quickly joined my side with a bright smile on her face.

“How does the fairy houses look like?” She asked, looking up into the tree branches above our heads.

“Look for lights coming out of the tree. They have the birds drill holes into the tree and make their house in there.” She nodded before carefully examining the tree bark at her hands.

“Keep an eye out for squirrels. Fairies love to ride on the back of squirrels. Sometimes they even share a home.”

“Oh wow that’s amazing! I want to be a fairy too!”

“My mommy says if you see one you can ask to become one. If you’re a good girl the fairy will grant your wish!” She cheered before climbing over the branch above our heads. She looked down and smiled.

“Are you coming Goldilocks?”

“My name is Sam not Goldilocks silly!” She laughed before shaking her head.

“My name is Vanessa but you can call me Pug.”

“Pug? What’s that?”

“I don’t know! I just like the name!” I laughed and shook my head. What a silly girl. We’re going to be best friends forever.

How right I was. Throughout our entire childhood we stood together, dreaming about future adventures and planning our big trip. Vanessa’s parents were church people, very strict. The more they tried to control her, the more she tried to escape. We were sixteen when she knocked on my window in the middle of the night. It was a normal occurrence for us. She would come over after a fight with her parents and spend the night. We would lay next to each other, our eyes never straying from the map we created on my roof. We would spend the night talking about all the places we’re going to visit one day. That night was different. She brought a backpack with a handful of money, a few clothes and two train tickets. Even though my household was normal and happy, with one glance to the second ticket I knew. I dropped everything, packed my own bag, left a note and followed her out of my window.

“Are you ready for an adventure of a lifetime?” Vanessa glanced over her shoulder. I laughed before taking her hand.

“Let’s go see the world pug!” She smiled a bright smile, finally free. It was raining that night and as we ran to the train station hand in hand, our big adventure began.

The first few years was truly interesting. We struggled to make ends meet, nights will go by where the only roof above our heads is that of a train station. We thought about going home many times in the beginning but we never left our journey. We had our first kiss on top of the mountain of Corfu, Greece at only nineteen years old. It was a surprise to the both of us. Our close knit friendship slowly shaped into something so much more. A relationship of that of soul mates. It was strange in the beginning. Back then gay relationships were frowned upon, a sin. You hid yourself and kissed behind closed doors. Vanessa was anything but ashamed about our relationship and refused to hide. She would kiss me whenever and wherever the moment would strike. We stayed in the town we shared our kiss the longest. Corfu was such a beautiful place with incredible landscapes and secret beaches straight out of paradise.

In the next five years we traveled all over Europe, never staying in one town for longer than three months. We earned money by singing and dancing on the streets. Sometimes we would get a short term job but we never separated. My favorite job was our three months with the circus. We met so many interesting people and performed acts with beyond talented people. It was a magical time which ended abruptly when the circus tent burned down. In the moment of chaos and panic all of our bags got stolen and we were stuck without a single cent to our names. Luckily our passports were safe and sound in our security box at the train station. We quickly moved onto the next town which was unfortunately a town with strict beliefs who hated our sinful union. They frowned upon it and chased us away like witches in the middle of the night. It was a scary ordeal but Vanessa positively and excitable steered us to a new town. After seven years of exploring the European countries we moved to Asia where we lived under the radar without a Visa permit. It was extremely difficult in the beginning, the language and culture so new and strange to us but in the year we lived there we explored so many places. We were constantly on the move, staying with locals who would take us in and following other travelers to new places. After our third close call with the law we came back to the little town where our love started, Corfu. There we settled down, got married and spend our days in the mountains and our small private beach.

Vanessa got sick when we were thirty five. Stage three breast cancer. We embarked a new journey where we fought cancer together. Through every chemo appointment. Through every sick night. Through every test. We stuck together and gave it a real good fight however after two years we lost. The night Vanessa died, my soul died with her. She was my everything and with her gone I had nothing left. With no desire for the little town we loved so much, I moved back to the town where it all started. I had no desire to travel, to see and experience new things. For the next thirty years I dreamt about the wonderful time I had in my youth. I eventually married another to fight the emptiness. He was a lovely man who couldn’t tell his family about his true desires. I agreed to the loveless marriage for the sake of not growing old alone. Over the years he became a great friend but no matter what changed, I missed Vanessa wholeheartedly. We never had children. We kept to ourselves and never traveled. I preferred it that way. My days passed with books about adventures I once lived and memories forever trapped in pictures.

Two days ago, my husband asked for a divorce. He was tired of hiding his true self. He was finally ready to come out of the closet and marry the man of his dreams. I happily signed the papers and packed my bags. Seeing the love and spark in the eyes of the man I grew old with, made something become alive deep inside my very being. With a backpack filled with our journals, a handful of clothes, I bought the same train ticket Vanessa bought so many years before. I smiled happily as I stared out of the window with the ticket to Corfu in my hands. I’m coming for you my precious pug.


The familiar ding of the announcement pulled me out of my thoughts. I saved the document, closed my laptop and flashed the old lady a smile. True love does exist. The train rolled to a stop and I hastily rushed home. Supernatural should have a new episode online and the last episode was an absolute horrible cliffhanger. The Spaghetti leftovers is just going to hit the spot and not to mention I get to cuddle with my furless Fluffy. I smiled. There is nothing like coming home after some time has passed.

Find the next chapter here —

2 thoughts on “The Girl Writing In The Train | Chapter Two | Writing Corner”

Leave a Reply