She stares ahead of her, eyes bobbing from left to right then to left again, at the crowd milling about before her. Her bag lies nearby, but she makes no move to assert her claim over it.
"You should keep an eye on that, you know," I murmur. Hopefully it does not come out as too bossy for her tastes.
She is momentarily taken by surprise. She pulls it closer to her side; whether out of following my advice or out of suspicion as to what I could possibly be up to, it is difficult to tell.
"Fascinating, isn't it?" I ask.
"You think so?" she says, hesitant.
"Isn't it?" I repeat myself. "Here we are, in possibly one of the best sites to observe the general public as they are. Everyone has his or her luggage - some have more than the other - and they have a place to go. Except, perhaps..." I nod in one direction, where a young child stands, lost, glancing around her, looking as if she's going to burst into tears any moment now, "...those who are still uncertain of their path in life, still dependent on other people."
My companion looks relieved when the little girl rejoins her parents, and the trio disappear from view, joining the crowd.
"Where are you heading?" I ask conversationally.
She glances at her ticket. "I don't know for sure."
"No?"
She holds the item up for my benefit. Aside from certain details as the time and place to board, it is as good as empty.
"That doesn't look right," I remark, raising an eyebrow.
"It doesn't," she agrees monotonously.
After the pause, I hazard a question, "But you know where you want to go to, don't you?"
She scrunches her face, her forehead now wrinkling in cogitation. "Yes." She meets my eyes, her grip on the ticket tightening. "Very much so."
"Great. You know what to do, then."
She nods.
"And what it takes to get there."
"Quite so."
"There will be necessary sacrifices along the way. Naturally."
"Naturally," she echoes. She however uncaps her pen and begins jotting something down on her ticket. With that done, she pockets it away. She then unzips her bag, and begins taking out several things, one by one. Noticing my enquiring gaze, she explains simply, "There are things that we should just leave behind us, aren't there?"
"Yes. But they might come back to you, somehow. Some do that, you know. Kind of like...nightmares."
"They might, but for now, they're not needed." She pauses. "Or, rather, I don't need them. I know it for a fact. If they ever come back, I'll just rinse and repeat." When I get to my feet, she makes it her point to ask, "You're leaving already?"
"Yes."
"But you--" From the way she eyes my empty hands, it is enough a hint as to what she is getting at. "You already have everything you need?" she asks tentatively. And - if I may say so myself - doubtfully.
I manage a small smile. "Yes." Taking the first few steps away from her, I motion a wave. "I'll see you when you get there."
It takes her a couple of moments to reply, and I am already some distance from her. But from the determination in her voice as she yells out "It's a promise!", I probably have nothing much to worry about.
Current Music: Everything is Alright - Motion City Soundtrack
