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Chapter 1:- A Cold Train Packed to the Brim with Silence
The cold mountains peered down on the lonely train as it hopelessly tried to make its way through the passage unnoticed. It silently glided across the tracks and left no evidence of it ever being there except for the dark smoke that would disappear quickly. The lights that quietly flickered inside the compartments illuminated the cold stone and created silhouettes of people enjoying a cup of tea or talking all too quietly, creating a silence that seemed almost unbearable if not lingering on the borderline of un-human. Russell didn’t mind it one bit. His mind was elsewhere and the cold silence was a nice change in contrast to the constant bustling construction and furious drivers outside his penthouse window in New York. The dark compartment also differed quite drastically from the constant light pollution that he would get. It wasn’t that he didn’t mind it, in fact, he liked it. Every now and then the quiet would be ever so slightly broken by another click in the railway or a stranger walking down the corridor that ran through the middle of the train.
During the long journey Russell took note of everything around him in a feeble effort to distract himself and slowly edge away from the steep cliff that was boredom. Everything seemed to be etched into his mind from the dilapidated seat facing him to the peeling paint on the window’s rim. He wondered if this journey would turn out to be counterproductive, if it would only act as a vacation rather than a way to pursue his writing career. Yet again however, he found himself staring back at the wall and studying it. He wondered if he was going slightly insane.
The clicking echoed out into the compartment. Spinning the pen every so often, Russell would click it melodically and try to create a sort of beat to go in line with his quick pulse. Maybe it was the coffee, or maybe it was the stress, whatever it was it made the remaining leg of the journey slow down to a crawl. He turned and stared at his reflection in the window. A man yearning for concentration looked back, one that knew all too well that it would be inevitably hard to get. The man broke up every so often as a tree would rustle past the window and Russell wondered if he too was breaking up on account of the fact that he hadn’t created a single bestseller for as long as he could remember. Maybe he too was simply a reflection in the eyes of the publishers that wouldn’t fund his works, a simple reflection that they could break up whenever they pleased; whenever they found necessary. He furiously pushed this thought out of his mind and convinced himself that self pity would get him nowhere. Pulling up his brown messenger bag, he reached in and fumbled around until his hand clasped on a thin brochure that he quickly pulled out and laid down on his lap. It was in fact for spring Lake, a small town that seemed to show promise for his struggling imagination. It was quaint and Russell constantly had to pull it out to try and re-assure himself that he had in fact made the right decision. He liked the idea of being alone; the word “solitude” always seemed like an afterthought that none of his relatives seemed to ever understand. Come to think of it, he realized that it had all gone wrong since his mother’s passing. Now he naturally was the only one to take care of his sister and she as well was trying to find work; however the future did seem hopeful now that she had gotten a reply for her resume. He wished her the best and knew that it was in both they’re best interests to have some privacy for the time being and get going on their financial life. His train of thought was quickly broken by the sounds of a young woman sobbing in the compartment in front of his, her husband came into the scene and he comforted her quietly. She kept babbling on about something that Russell tried to take no notice of and again focused on something else to grab his attention. He stared up at the night sky curiously and tried to count the stars. He knew it was childish but he liked the idea of remaining a youth forever, forgetting for once about his job and focusing on the fun aspects of life; those that seemed forgotten and tossed away like the books he was sure his publishers dismissed. He smiled to himself as he realized how hopeless his situation was and the whole prospect of actually making it to the bestseller list shrivelled and hid away as he tried to pull it back in anger.
He must of fell asleep for when he woke up the first rays of sunlight crept through the window and blazed across the scenery which was so familiar to him that he might as well not have woken up in the first place. He rubbed his tired eyes and slid over to the window, realizing that he in fact had left the window open the night before and he shivered slightly as he closed it. Outside he once again gazed at the grey mountains and strangely shaped trees. He was quite satisfied with himself on account of having slept through quite a fair portion of the train ride. He stared outside and imagined the scenery playing on a loop that would never end and that he would most likely be stuck on the train for as long as it took him to get started on his book. Finally the reel seemed to end and the small sign of Spring Lake ran past his window justifying the fact that he had arrived and that no matter what he did now, there was no going back for at least a month. He smiled as the train finally reached the location which seemed to rival even the picturesque qualities of the brochure. All his prior worry and uncertainty seemed to vanish immediately and he grabbed his bag and quickly slung it across his bag as he slid the compartment door open and walked down the long corridor which he failed to make any notes upon while fighting his boredom. He was surprised at how fresh and new everything looked after being placed in confinement; stuck to one compartment for the entire 20 something hour journey. He peered into the compartment in front of his. He was shocked at the fact that there was no one there. Only the night before he was certain that he had seen the shadows of a young couple plastered against the cold mountains. He was certain that there had been someone in front of him. What about the sobbing sounds he heard? Surely, he couldn’t have imagined that. The only explanation that he could come up with was purely insomnia. After all, he hadn’t slept for more than a day and it wouldn't be too farfetched to assume he was hearing things. He smiled and welcomed the quiet cottage filled mountain town; letting it seep into his conscious and create a hope for the next month.
The cold mountains peered down on the lonely train as it hopelessly tried to make its way through the passage unnoticed. It silently glided across the tracks and left no evidence of it ever being there except for the dark smoke that would disappear quickly. The lights that quietly flickered inside the compartments illuminated the cold stone and created silhouettes of people enjoying a cup of tea or talking all too quietly, creating a silence that seemed almost unbearable if not lingering on the borderline of un-human. Russell didn’t mind it one bit. His mind was elsewhere and the cold silence was a nice change in contrast to the constant bustling construction and furious drivers outside his penthouse window in New York. The dark compartment also differed quite drastically from the constant light pollution that he would get. It wasn’t that he didn’t mind it, in fact, he liked it. Every now and then the quiet would be ever so slightly broken by another click in the railway or a stranger walking down the corridor that ran through the middle of the train.
During the long journey Russell took note of everything around him in a feeble effort to distract himself and slowly edge away from the steep cliff that was boredom. Everything seemed to be etched into his mind from the dilapidated seat facing him to the peeling paint on the window’s rim. He wondered if this journey would turn out to be counterproductive, if it would only act as a vacation rather than a way to pursue his writing career. Yet again however, he found himself staring back at the wall and studying it. He wondered if he was going slightly insane.
The clicking echoed out into the compartment. Spinning the pen every so often, Russell would click it melodically and try to create a sort of beat to go in line with his quick pulse. Maybe it was the coffee, or maybe it was the stress, whatever it was it made the remaining leg of the journey slow down to a crawl. He turned and stared at his reflection in the window. A man yearning for concentration looked back, one that knew all too well that it would be inevitably hard to get. The man broke up every so often as a tree would rustle past the window and Russell wondered if he too was breaking up on account of the fact that he hadn’t created a single bestseller for as long as he could remember. Maybe he too was simply a reflection in the eyes of the publishers that wouldn’t fund his works, a simple reflection that they could break up whenever they pleased; whenever they found necessary. He furiously pushed this thought out of his mind and convinced himself that self pity would get him nowhere. Pulling up his brown messenger bag, he reached in and fumbled around until his hand clasped on a thin brochure that he quickly pulled out and laid down on his lap. It was in fact for spring Lake, a small town that seemed to show promise for his struggling imagination. It was quaint and Russell constantly had to pull it out to try and re-assure himself that he had in fact made the right decision. He liked the idea of being alone; the word “solitude” always seemed like an afterthought that none of his relatives seemed to ever understand. Come to think of it, he realized that it had all gone wrong since his mother’s passing. Now he naturally was the only one to take care of his sister and she as well was trying to find work; however the future did seem hopeful now that she had gotten a reply for her resume. He wished her the best and knew that it was in both they’re best interests to have some privacy for the time being and get going on their financial life. His train of thought was quickly broken by the sounds of a young woman sobbing in the compartment in front of his, her husband came into the scene and he comforted her quietly. She kept babbling on about something that Russell tried to take no notice of and again focused on something else to grab his attention. He stared up at the night sky curiously and tried to count the stars. He knew it was childish but he liked the idea of remaining a youth forever, forgetting for once about his job and focusing on the fun aspects of life; those that seemed forgotten and tossed away like the books he was sure his publishers dismissed. He smiled to himself as he realized how hopeless his situation was and the whole prospect of actually making it to the bestseller list shrivelled and hid away as he tried to pull it back in anger.
He must of fell asleep for when he woke up the first rays of sunlight crept through the window and blazed across the scenery which was so familiar to him that he might as well not have woken up in the first place. He rubbed his tired eyes and slid over to the window, realizing that he in fact had left the window open the night before and he shivered slightly as he closed it. Outside he once again gazed at the grey mountains and strangely shaped trees. He was quite satisfied with himself on account of having slept through quite a fair portion of the train ride. He stared outside and imagined the scenery playing on a loop that would never end and that he would most likely be stuck on the train for as long as it took him to get started on his book. Finally the reel seemed to end and the small sign of Spring Lake ran past his window justifying the fact that he had arrived and that no matter what he did now, there was no going back for at least a month. He smiled as the train finally reached the location which seemed to rival even the picturesque qualities of the brochure. All his prior worry and uncertainty seemed to vanish immediately and he grabbed his bag and quickly slung it across his bag as he slid the compartment door open and walked down the long corridor which he failed to make any notes upon while fighting his boredom. He was surprised at how fresh and new everything looked after being placed in confinement; stuck to one compartment for the entire 20 something hour journey. He peered into the compartment in front of his. He was shocked at the fact that there was no one there. Only the night before he was certain that he had seen the shadows of a young couple plastered against the cold mountains. He was certain that there had been someone in front of him. What about the sobbing sounds he heard? Surely, he couldn’t have imagined that. The only explanation that he could come up with was purely insomnia. After all, he hadn’t slept for more than a day and it wouldn't be too farfetched to assume he was hearing things. He smiled and welcomed the quiet cottage filled mountain town; letting it seep into his conscious and create a hope for the next month.
