Friday, 27 March 2009

In search of the wrong season

Constable.Yes, Constable. That was what she thought as she sat on the train as it cantered through the countryside in the dappled sunlight. Except for the barbed wire fencing, it could have been one of his paintings. Well, that and the traffic speeding alongside the tracks, which was also destroying her view.

Strange. She had taken this journey a countless number of times but the thought had never crossed her mind before. Maybe it was due to the unsocialable hours in which she usually made the journey, those almost vampric periods of dawn and dusk. Maybe it was because the English weather was generally so goddamn awful that she never got to experience this beautiful, painterly light.

It somehow filled her with a longing for autumn, which was rather perverse given that part of the reason the land looked so lush was because spring had not long commenced. But that was typical of the girl – always longing for the things in the future while failing to appreciate those in the present…

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