Crossing
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Author: MonkeyBard It begins with a train. Crossing borders. Crossing the continent. The constant thrum of steel wheels against steel rails. The hypnotic rhythm a mixed blessing from mountains to coast. A ferry follows. Crossing the Channel. The relentless slap and swish of salt water against the hull. Lulling. Never quite numbing. Another train. Crossing from port to station. A hansom cab crossing the city. A door. A step across one threshold. Seventeen stairs that have never looked longer, never felt steeper. I cross the last threshold into an empty flat. I can no longer call it a home without my friend. |