short story

Wednesday’s creative writing post is a very short story I wrote during a one-week Writing Workshop in Tuscany.(Photo credit kevinandamanda.com)

The Girl on the Train to Siena

I board the train for a day trip to Siena and I take a seat by the window. The car is empty. I close my eyes and stretch my legs.

Just as the train is about to pull out, I am suddenly surrounded by six young American girls. They scramble into seats like the music has just stopped in a game of musical chairs.

They are thin and tan, their long legs smooth, their faces unfettered by lines. They are all equally attractive in the way that friends are, naturally gravitating towards one another, but I wouldn’t call them pretty.

Except for one girl.

She was sitting to my left and had long, straight brown hair that fell just below her breasts and smelled of Finesse shampoo. She wore a blue denim miniskirt and simple black tank top and wore a thin gold anklet above red flip-flops.

As the train rolled along the Tuscan countryside, she tilted her head backwards and drifted into sleep. Her body swayed as the train took curves, and as her head dipped to the right the tips of her hair grazed my left arm.

It was lovely, like the stroke of a feather.

The train rocked to the left and she tilted her head upright.

Another curve to the right, and her head fell further sideways and her hair tumbled across my arm. This time she did not lift her head back up, so her tresses rested like a summer shawl on my bare skin.

I glanced at her friends to see if they noticed her hair draped across a stranger’s arm, but they were absorbed in their conversation.

Only a few minutes went by, but it felt like hours, and I wished I could have run my fingers through her hair.

The train stopped abruptly, jolting her awake, as we had arrived in Siena.

With a blow of the conductor’s whistle, I smiled as I watched her walk slowly away.