Flowers
for
Acacia
By Jax_Elk
Your grandfather has many interesting stories about your grandmother.
I’ll tell you of how he met her in the first place. He was a man filled with youth. He woke up every day, from monday to wednesday, at 6:00 A.M. From there he went to Louis Station, where he rode the train to work everyday. It was a quotidian process, repeated day after day, animatedly. However, one day, everything changed.
He was in the station as a matter of course, waiting for the train. As he said, without fail, it was raining on that particular day. As he sat in the rain, he glanced across the station, to see before his eyes, a woman standing across the tracks, waiting for a different train. The train station was quite hollow that day, devoid of the usual hustle and bustle of the city folk, and she was the only person on the particular platform. She was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen before. He saw the long beautiful black curls that sprouted from her head, then the soft freckles on her face. He got up to call out, but just as he did so, the train grinded into the station, blocking her from view. He’d lost his chance. After the train left, she was gone.
The following day he strolled to the station, not failing his routine. The station was a fair bit more busy this day, but he still found his usual bench. He set down his weathered briefcase and began to wait for the train. His eyes glanced around the station, which was relatively quiet, hoping in the back of his heart that he might see her again. It was an unconscious action. There he saw her again, in the same spot, reading a book that he could not distinguish. She glanced up this time, which gave him the opportunity he needed. He smiled, and waved slightly. she smiled and waved a bit back too. He got up to say something, but once again, the train blocked her from view, and whisked her away.
The next day, he woke up, determined to meet the woman. He strolled to the other side of the train tracks, to the spot where she stood, with two coffees in his hands, and a slight spring in his step. He waited for a while, because in his haste he got there a bit earlier than usual. He tapped his foot, pacing around and waiting anxiously, for he could hardly wait to see her again.
At long last she emerged from the crowd, moving to stand where she always stands. She seemed to be gazing across the train tracks to see if she could find him, as he once did just the other day. He smiled and, brimming with confidence, stepped forwards, going to stand beside her.
“Coffee?” He said, holding the coffee in his right hand out to her.
She turned and gave the slightest smile. He could now see the color of her eyes, which were a piercing, brilliant green.
“I’d love one.” She said.
What he heard was not the voice of a woman, but the voice of a choir of angels, gracing him. She took the coffee from his hand, gripping the cup tightly in order to feel the heat of the liquid inside. He tightened his tan coat around him, taking a sip of his coffee. He savored the warmth he felt that clashed with the cold air, before looking to the woman.
“What’s your name?” He said, breaking the local silence.
She replied with a smile, clutching her cup of coffee tightly, warming her hands.
“I’m Acacia, what's yours?”
He turned his head towards her, promptly answering her question
“The name’s Connor. Might I add that your name is beautiful, just as you.”
She smiled, her blush hiding beneath her cold cheeks. The all too familiar sound of the train whistle rang out, followed by the actual train riding up. Her smile faded a small amount, before she turned her head slightly.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, right?” She asked, picking up her bags.
He looked one last time in her dark hazel eyes, before she got on the train.
“I will.”
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