last spring

It's 4 a.m.

Everyone is awake for their own work. Life is a race, they say. If you don't run fast enough, someone else will cross you. Maybe it's true. It's in the air.

Early spring. New leaves are replacing the heavy, yellow, half-dead ones. Soft sunlight touches them — at least that's what my mother used to tell me it looks like.

And here I am, at the railway station. Alone in a crowd of strangers.

I'm a bit introverted. I use my words like gold. I listen more than I see.

Where am I going? I don't even know. Maybe just a little far away.

I find a seat. Headphones on, but nothing playing. Eyes closed. That's how I like to sit.

But the goddess had different plans.

A loud sound — something falling, close to my feet. I turn my head towards the sound.

And there she is. I hear her before I see anything.

Slipped on the floor, and laughing like a maniac. But that laugh — so innocent, so full of happiness. A soft smile, I can hear it in her voice. And those bright, deep eyes — I imagine them.

Even after falling, she was laughing.

She gets up, adjusts her dress, smiles. And somehow, she sits right in front of me. I can feel someone there, I can smell light perfume.

I knew then, my journey was not going to be peaceful anymore.

The train starts. I take a few long breaths, trying to avoid... listening too hard. But my ears keep cheating on me, trying to find her.

Suddenly she says, "Hey, are you going to stare at me the whole journey?"

I press my back against the seat. I had been facing her direction without meaning to.

"No, no. I didn't mean to. It wasn't intentional. I was just... listening."

She laughs. She knows she teased me and I got caught red-handed.

"I didn't mean to tease you. But you were facing me long enough for me to notice."

"Sorry... but your voice... I mean, your eyes are pretty. Okay? Someone told me that blue eyes sound like this."

She smiles, a little shy this time.

"At least you're honest. Most boys would just look away and pretend."

"I told you, I use my words like gold. So when I say it, I mean it. I don't waste looks."

"Myself, Emma Watson. Nice to meet you."

"Ethan. Ash Rose."

"So what do you do, Ash?"

"I teach at a middle school. I teach them how to listen. And you?"

"Don't 'Miss' me. Just Emma. I'm an art teacher. I teach them how to see."

That line hit me.

"Where are you going, Ash?"

"Maybe somewhere far away. And you?"

"To my childhood town. To spend my last spring there."

"That's nice. Childhood places hold a lot of sweet memories. Sounds that never leave you."

"They do. I'm going to miss the trees there. There's one big tree at our station — half yellow, half green right now. My favorite."

She looks out the window.

"Ash, aren't we both just running away from reality?"

"Maybe, Emma. Or maybe we're just going to find a new one. One we can hear better."

She goes quiet for a second, then looks outside.

"Ash, look at that tree. Those last leaves — they are the autumn that has passed. And those new ones — they are the spring that is coming. So soon. We have to leave something to gain something, don't we?"

"Yeah. That's life. You have to let the yellow ones fall. Can you describe it for me? Exactly how it looks right now?"

And she does. She describes it like she's painting it for me.

The train stops.

"Bye, Ash. Keep listening."

She leaves.

After a minute, I turn to the side.

"Sir, did you see that lady? Was her hair curly or straight?"

He says, "Curly. And her eyes — beautiful, deep blue."

"Why are you asking? Didn't you see her?"

I get up, pick up my white cane, and start walking away.

end