It seemed as though nothing could evade the scrutiny of the full moon that night. The sun was as far as it could be, but every surface emitted a luminous glow as if the dawn had just arrived. Every stone and blade of grass that comprised the meadow had fallen victim to the moon’s influence, and I pitied their susceptibility. I struggled to avoid eye contact with that pallid orb as I ducked into the limited shadow of the freight car. I knew that I couldn’t stand to meet the same fate of so many broken hearts that had gazed upon the moon, hoping to find some remedy for their despondency, but only to discover that it was too far to help. I was helpless enough already.
Objects glinted past my eyes like phantoms racing to fulfill unfinished tasks of a previous life. I altered the focus of the landscape by diverting my vision further from the car and then returning it to its original state—anything to pass the time and avoid the onslaught of thoughts. Eventually I settled my vision upon the woods, well across the meadow. Beneath the forest canopy was the only visible darkness. I wished to be immersed in it, walking amongst the other wayward silhouettes that had successfully escaped the light, but I knew that a man of my sorts did not belong in the wild any more than the place of my departure. I hoped the locomotive would deliver me to some civilization that did not remind me of the forsaken town.
As the train rounded a particular bend, a horde of quail burst into the sky to dodge the thunderous volley of decibels that surged from the metal tracks. They stained the atmosphere with a porous cloud of black and brown and suddenly my minute plot of shadow expanded to occupy the entire car. I cherished my fleeting solace while it lasted. While their bout of flight concluded and they violently returned to the earth, my route increased in elevation as the train began to ascend the mountain pass running along the meadow. Apprehensive shrieks were more than just a reminder of the quails’ existence below, for they announced the advent of the apparition I feared most.
The moon progressively eased more into view with every gained foot until it was visible in its entirety, taunting me from its astronomical perch. I was snared by its gaudy radiance, unable to defend myself against the tirade of regrets, laments, and emotions that it ensued within me. Suddenly, as though by involuntary impulse, my trembling hand reached into my coat pocket and produced an envelope. I had read and reread its contents several times, so that by then I practically had it committed to memory. The words of that final goodbye scratched across the desert of my brain like dehydrated nomads dragging their beaten feet along the Sahara sands: “My Darling, it appears as though our paths have departed from a parallel course and my heart no longer recites your name with every beat…” Before I was tempted to remove the wretched letter and brood over it once more, I clenched it between my contracting fingers, wrinkling it into a crude oriental fan. Approaching the door to the moving train, I outstretched my arm into the turbulent wind and released the cause of my sorrow back to the hand that composed it. I watched it rapidly flutter through the air until it was finally out of sight behind the rustic walls of the freight car. Oh how I begged for an eclipse.
A guy gets a Dear John letter and decides to skip town. He jumps a freight train under a full moon, sees a covey of quail take flight and tosses the letter into the wind.
ReplyDeleteThe language here is impressive, insistent, and multisyllabic. The narrator's loquacious, and his ex is too. Unfortunately, the language is also obscuring the simple action of the story, keeping the reader at arm's length. The language of a story need not be transparent but it cannot be opaque, unless maybe you're aiming for satire. Try writing this in clear, simple, straightforward language that allows the reader access to the character and the story. Write this in your own voice and see what you have.