Rain skidded across the window, the smaller drops holding still, helpless in the path of their larger cousins, which sped forth and absorbed everything in their path. The carriage was a wasteland of raindrop-on-raindrop destruction. Alex watched for a moment and then adjusted his focus to the industrial buildings speeding past in the background, graffiti crawling up the walls only to be endlessly scrubbed off and re-painted.
Meaningless battles, Alex thought.
The buildings gave way to indistinguishable houses and then to endless farmland, cattle huddling together in the damp. He rested his head against the glass and let the vibrations of the train rattle through him.
Jane tugged at his arm and offered a soft shoulder. Alex shook his head. “I want to feel like I’m moving,” he said.
They sat, together but apart, facing backwards so that they saw only where the train was now and where it had been. The reflections of other passengers superimposed blank expressions onto the unchanging landscape: bored eyes gasping for something new to burst through the countryside and grab them by the throats.
Nothing came.
Jane looked at Alex with beautiful eyes that said, I loved you.
Alex looked away. Raindrops and grassland.
He refocused and realised the tannoy had been blasting coffee information, light humor from the conductor, station names. “… Lancaster, Preston, Wigan North Western …” Gunpowder, treason and plot. He shut his eyes, wishing this away, and kept them tight; even when he felt tender hands brush against his arm and the change in engine pitch that meant the train was slowing down, he didn’t let the world seep in. He willed his memories, already fading, to come back to him: holding hands on the beach as the wind blew their hair into their eyes, watching the sun go down over toiling waves and the calls of flapping seagulls helpless to the ebb and flow of the wind. His eyelids were gates, trapping this in his head forever.
The train pulled to a stop and Alex thought he heard his name but couldn’t be sure, wasn’t ready to open up and let her go.
The doors swished open and Jane walked out into the light.
Ben Werdmuller is a writer and digital native.
This story was sponsored by
Camilla d’Errico: A character designer and artist who dances on the tightrope between pop surrealist art and manga inspired graphics. Explore her paintings, characters and comics: Tanpopo, BURN and Helmetgirls.
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13 Responses to “MEANINGLESS BATTLES • by Ben Werdmuller”
Comments
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November 5th, 2009 at 3:24 am
[...] writing, fiction, flash fiction, oxford — Ben Werdmuller @ 11:23 am My flash fiction story Meaningless Battles is up on Every Day Fiction: Rain skidded across the window, the smaller drops holding still, [...]
November 5th, 2009 at 3:27 am
The grief that the man is feeling is tangible! A beautifully written piece.
November 5th, 2009 at 4:09 am
Poor Alex. Don’t worry there’s someone out there better for you than Jane.
November 5th, 2009 at 7:01 am
After reading this story three times, I still don’t get it.
November 5th, 2009 at 8:20 am
Well, first, I found the first paragraph confusing … not sure what was happening, or what was supposed to be happening. The description of the train ride was just that, a description of a train ride (but what’s a “tannoy”?). Then we got to the end, and I’m still not sure what happened.
Sorry, this one gets a big “huh?” from me.
November 5th, 2009 at 8:28 am
Convoluted opening…first sentences are like first impressions: you never get a second chance, so make it good.
I couldn’t connect the “meaningless battles” Alex was observing with what was going on between him and Jane. Is this the end of a relationship? Why are they on this train together? Why does she seem so supportive, compassionate even, and then she’s gone? Why is she walking into the light when it is a rainy and presumably overcast day?
Couldn’t really get into this one, sorry.
–John
November 5th, 2009 at 8:50 am
Some fun description – (‘graffiti crawling’). I didn’t get what was really going on for the characters.
November 5th, 2009 at 9:01 am
This was a really sad story.
November 5th, 2009 at 10:16 am
I got it.
November 5th, 2009 at 12:07 pm
Some nicw writing in here, some tangible emotion but I have to join the ‘didn’t get it crowd.’
November 5th, 2009 at 12:28 pm
Confuse me once, shame on you. Confuse me twice, I’m moving on.
November 6th, 2009 at 3:14 am
I’m confused too. I’ve read it twice so far, very slowly th second time.
November 8th, 2009 at 6:12 am
Dude, Virgin trains aren’t that bad!