
She found him yet again wandering through the station.
At least he looked embarrassed. “A station at night is beautiful,” he said. “Calming. So few people, but the dedication of an empty temple. Victorian railway stations are one of three British contributions to world civilisation.”
Alice followed his gaze to the great glass roof and shared the awe. Her hand crept into his.
“Arrivals and departures. When I was a boy, smoke billowed under that canopy, like mist on the hills.”
Alice squeezed his hand. “You’re good at comings and goings – it’s just the stays that trouble you.”
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Expertly produced as always, Neil.
Being slightly nomadic myself, I feel for him.
PS I guess the other 2 are bagpipes and whisky
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Nope, those are Scottish.
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Dear Neil,
At first I thought he was a little boy until his reminiscence. Beautifully crafted and poignant.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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He may be regressing to a ittle boy again. Thanks, Rochelle
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I did pick up on that. Brought a tears to my eyes.
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That last line nails the whole story. The “How Can I Miss You If You Won’t Go Away?” scenario, the bad case of wanderlust.
Superbly written, Neil. Great!
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Thanks so much, William
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in loved the last line
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Thanks Dee
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I appreciated the Brit spelling of civilization. Nicely done. So many of us are in love with beginnings, aren’t we? Especially if you can avoid the endings.
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Even endings. It’s the bit in the middle that’s hard
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We’re always going somewhere, aren’t we? Often it’s backwards. Stations are such romantic and melancholy places, like the old ferry ports.
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All the people from point A are trying to get to point B and all the people from point B are trying to get to point A. It’s the people at point C who have it all figured out
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The happy few.
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Beautifully crafted as usual Neil. The last line tells the story – well done.
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Thanks Derek
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I can imagine the scene so vividly. (smiles) I love walking through old, empty spaces like this… and letting my imagination play. Thanks for the journey, it was enjoyable.
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Thanks so much
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Lovely last line. (Lovely all of it.)
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Thanks so much, Claire
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Really wistful Neil.
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Thanks. wistful is good, right?
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Yes – it made me feel something 😃
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I agree with William. That last line cinches it. I got the feeling Alzheimer’s was in the mix here.
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Yes, I think he’s in the middle stages of it
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I’m always moved and awe-struck in old railway stations – that might be where I’ll be found when I’m losing myself. Beautifully done.
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Me too, especially at night
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That was very lovely… My great-grandmother was a “wanderer” as her Alzheimer’s kicked in. Not so much fun for those who had to chase her but I could well imagine one would find themselves where one was content…
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Luckily he knows his way to the station
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Yes indeed…for now….
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Nice take Neil. I’m wistful for the old Victorian stations too, they don’t build them like that anymore.
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Thanks Iain
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That’s lovely Neil. Great description of a station filled wiht steam trains – you can see him standing on the platform, alive to his memories of smoke and noicse. Really enjoyed this
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Glad you liked it Lynn. Thanks
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My pleasure 🙂
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The stays that trouble him or the trouble he gets in during stays?
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We may never know. She’s only allowed 100 words
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Very nice, Neil.
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Thanks, Kecia
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I too have the “travel bug” so I understand him very well. But sooner or later we learn to stay, aging helps.
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Loved the description of the station and then the lovers’ lament at the end.
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Thanks, Julie
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A tender moment in a perfect setting. Nicely done, Neil
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Just challenging enough, lovely writing
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Thanks, Mike
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Beautiful story! At first I thought lost little boy, then I thought man with commitment issues… And now I’m sensing dementia. Maybe in his lifetime he’s been all three? Thanks for taking me on that journey 🙂
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Thanks, Jessie
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…the dedication of an empty temple. Great imagery here. Such a wistful piece. Loved, as did the others, the last line. Great story writing Neil.
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Thanks, Neel
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I got the Alzheimer vibe, too. That makes an otherwise lovely story bittersweet.
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Great. That’s what I’d intended
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Sweet story, though I feel some form of early stage dementia lurking in the background.
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Yes, you’re right
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That was simply beautiful.
This is my first time visiting your blog and hope to explore your tips and tools section in the coming days.
I hope you can visit my blog also as I am newly back into blogging after taking several years off to raise my little ones, and could sure use a comment and or a follow too 🙂
– Lisa
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Thanks so much
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Oh so good, I really felt the emptiness of the station. Somehow I don’t think he’ll be staying.
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Thanks, Laurie
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For some reason I got that dementia feeling… loved the name Alice here, almost like a reversed wonderland…
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That’s exactly why I chose Alice as the name. Glad to know it worked for you
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🙂
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Old railway stations are great because they hold the promise and mystery of what’s at the end of the line. It’s sad that your protagonist is maybe past the point where he can hope to find out now.
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I think he still has his own joy in the station
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I like the way she handled this. Very kind, loving, and patient. My Dad had dementia and its very challenging for the family, especially the spouse. It must be horrible realizing that you’re in the early stages of such a disease and that things are slipping away. You told the story beautifully.
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Thanks, Rusell
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Wonderfully described and beautifully crafted.A really enjoyable read for which I thank you.
…when I grow up! My tale.
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And a really enjoyable comment for which I thank you, Keith
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I’m guessing the coming and going and staying is a comment on the Alzheimer’s and dementia?
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More on the human condition really. Alzheimers just exaggerates it
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I love the story, especially her sympathetic understanding. He reminds me of my cousin who till today visits stations and trains as a past time activity!
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Thanks so much
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Lovely. I like their connection however fleeting.
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Thanks, Tracey
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I too got the feeling of dementia. The last line broke my heart. I loved the line “Victorian railway stations are one of three British contributions to world civilization.” It is so true.
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Thanks so much. Do you know what the other two are?
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I am embarrassed to say I do not.
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That’s okay. Nobody else does either. He made it up
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Sounds like even though he’s got nomad blood, their love keeps bringing him back. Sweet story.
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Thanks so much
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I got the impression of a mental wandering – a poignant write.
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Thanks, Dahlia
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Twent-five years ago, my husband and I fell in love at Union Station in St. Louis, MO. So, this scene is moving on several layers.
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Twenty-five.
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Thanks Honie. I’m glad the story lived in your head
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Lovely sad piece. Two aspects I really liked – the vividness of his past and the tender care of Alice.
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Thanks so much
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I had a husband like that.
Well described, Neil.
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Thanks, Dawn
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Love this! Love the wording, love the way it’s told! 🙂
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Thanks so much, Sascha
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You’re welcome!
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A great love story. And aren’t railway stations wonderful places!
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Some of my favourite places, yes. Thanks, Patrick
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A case of restless legs and wandering minds only manageable by old age and aching joints diagnosed the doctor.
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I think he may wander more as he ages
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Such a tender, beautiful piece this week, Neil. The imagery swept me away.
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Thanks so much, Dawn
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Beautifully done.
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Thanks so much
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Your characters are so caring, even when there is such a bitter sweet departure.
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