Diana Bridges and The Timepiece (fiction piece in progress)

Diana Bridges stood in line to board the steaming train. Hand in her coat pocket, she took out her one way ticket to Paris. A smile filled with uncertainty spread across her face as she held the ticket tight in her hand. She couldn’t tell you the exact reason why she found herself waiting in this line, eager to make her visit to Paris, but she could tell you that part of it was because of a man named Louis Carlton. There wasn’t much she could say about Mr. Louis Carlton, for there was a right time for everything to unfold, and this wasn’t the right time. But what she could say is that he had left her long ago, and now she finally had the chance to find him again.A very slim chance it was, but it was a chance, and that was all she needed to make the trip.

“Ticket, please,” A hand covered in a white glove reached out in front of her; the fabric fairly clean. Well, that’s rather odd, Diana pondered, A man handling a train shouldn’t be wearing gloves that are white as snow. And then she remembered. She used to wear gloves just like that. Not for handling a train, of course, but for attending a gala. One that lasted until dawn. Filled with extravagant dresses and crystal chandeliers. Champagne and men in suits. She couldn’t really tell you anything more about the gala, too many scandalous endeavors and too much champagne. But what she could tell you, was that it was a night to remember.

“Miss. Your ticket please,” the conductor questioned once again. Diana was suddenly brought back from the gala and onto the station platform. She looked down at the document in her hand; a sudden fear washing over her. The ticket was him. It was Louis. If she loosened her grip on it, even just a little, she would loose her grip on him too.

“Miss, are you boarding the train or not?” Diana pursed her lips at the conductor’s inquiry. Why are you being such a dreamy fool? She asked herself. A ticket can’t change the fate of a man. A halfhearted sigh escaped her mouth as she handed off her precious document to the conductor. Expecting some dramatic act of flying pieces of paper, her lips slightly parted when that did not come, and instead, the ticket was back in her hands within seconds.

“Safe travels, and enjoy your time in Paris,” the conductor motioned his arm towards the door behind him, and though she was fairly sure that he was required to say such things, Diana thanked the man, and readily boarded the train. Before the preferred seats filled, Diana quickly found her spot next to a big and beautiful window that overlooked the platform of the station. As she gazed out, her eyes darted to each stranger passing by. All dressed in seemingly warm jackets decorated in shades of blacks and browns. How boring, Diana thought. But then, she looked down at her own coat covering her own body, and noticed that it too was a nice shade of black. A smile spread across her face. She had forgotten. No longer did she stand out like the days of the galas and other extravagant events. Blending in was now substantial for reasons she couldn’t quite say.