it was a perfect spring day. the kind you meet your best friend on.

everyone in town talked about her.  they thought she was crazy.  her ideas didn't align with theirs and she rarely fit in.  her love was bigger than most knew how to accept.  her life never became a recognizable pattern and it made others uncomfortable and uneasy.

she was in the prime of her life.  dressed in her best.  she stood patiently at the train station.  a small, weathered leather bag packed with her favorite belongings was clutched in her hands.  it contained her childhood doll, two wispy curls - each tied with a blue ribbon, a tiny sterling silver heart as a reminder of her past, her grandmother's recipe box and a card written in familiar handwriting.

she could hear the rumble of the train as it rattled down the track.  if you listened closely you could hear the chug: b-b-g, b-b-g, b-b-g, over and over and over.  it mesmerized her.  it was calling to her. but instead of the sound getting louder as the train entered the station it became more and more faint.  she asked a gentleman walking past where the train was and he said it hadn't come to that station for over 30 years.

But she could hear it . . .  yes, he commented.  but it runs on the track a couple of blocks away.  he told her she could hear it from here and she could see it as well.  but no matter how long she stood here on this platform it would never come for her.