The old man arrived at the railway station by taxicab. He paid his fare then made his way to the ticket office carrying all of his most treasured possessions in one well-used suitcase. The rest of his goods and chattels were being sold off at a clearing-house sale in a day or two. After five years of being a lonely widower, he had decided to cut his ties with the city and return to his roots. Awelon, the Old Folks Home in Ruthin was expecting him.
As he looked on the throngs of passengers and their friends, he had a pang of nostalgia. His thoughts went back to a time, over half a century ago, when he had worn a khaki uniform and used this station on many occasions to return to his barracks after leave. He remembered too, that he had always seemed to have a pretty young lady clinging to his arm, desperately sad to let him go. Love and sympathy went well together when lovers were forced to separate. The sense of loss and homesickness at such times were overwhelming, and only compensated by his joyful return on his next leave.
He bought his ticket and boarded his train. He found a quiet compartment and after putting his case up on the rack, he sat down and closed his eyes. He immersed himself in thoughts of how things used to be. He couldn't see much of a future for himself in a nursing home, and preferred his dreams of the past. In his mind's eye, he once again saw his lady, waving him a tearful farewell as the train pulled out of the station. Lulled by the gentle rocking of the carriage, he dropped off into a light sleep.
He awoke with a start as the train passed over a set of points. The rhythm of the locomotive changed to a new tune. He could hear the wheels singing a different song. Startled he looked around. The compartment had filled up while he slept. Most of the seats were occupied. His eyes however, were drawn to only one person, sitting directly opposite him. She was young, she was indescribably beautiful, and she wore an exquisite white gown, quite out of place in these surroundings. She smiled at his surprised approbation. Suddenly he felt very young again, young enough to have the confidence to hold out a hand and hope that the fair lady would accept it. She always had before, so many times, and she had always been there for him through a long, long life. Why should today be any different. As he felt the warmth of her fingers, at that gentle touch, he felt the old love surging back through his veins once more. He felt as though he was twenty years old again, his age when they had first met.
The others in the carriage looked at him with some concern. Eventually one man moved to his side and touched the side of his neck, feeling for a pulse. "I'm a doctor", he said to the rest. "I'm sorry, but this old fellow is going nowhere. I'm afraid that he's made his last journey."
The old man smiled softly to himself. It was a benign smile. He realised that even the most learned of doctors could be wrong sometimes. His journey was only just beginning.

Copyright © 2008 Thomas Vaughan