The Station

"Pineapples. That was the first thing that came into my mind. I thought about how delicious the juice tasted and why I had never realised that before. I was thirsty. Really thirsty. Then, I realised I was able to think about pineapples and that I was able to think about the fact that i was able to think about pineapples and that therefore … I was alive. I was alive and thirsty."

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1. Anna

As I sat on the train, I watched the trees go by. One by one they passed and one by one their vision blurred until they became invisable. The further we got, the weaker the branches appeared, until all the trees were dead and grey, covered in a thin layer of frosting. Their branches, sharp and even deadly looking, were lightly shaking and moving in the wind. A cold breeze flew through the air and made the snowflakes fly just a little bit to the left.

December. It was december. It was cold and freezing, but luckily I was able to steal a spot next to a radiator on the train. I was constantly switching between blowing into my hands and warming them against the heating. My gloves, well... I wouldn't even call them gloves, had huge holes in them so I had at least six fingers poking out and if I wanted to ever use ma hands again, I had to constantly keep them worm.

But anyways, It was december, in fact, the 29th of december. Almost new year. I always loved new year, not because of the presents, but because of the fact that it was just a single moment the whole world stood still. Everybody sat on their porch, watching the fireworks, or inside by the fire, some (like me) even climbed out their windows and sat on top of their roof. I always enjoyed that moment. From where I sat, on the roof, I could see through the windows of my neighbors houses and I'd watch them all count down to the moment where time stood still. At that moment, I thought I could feel the energy of the entire planet smiling or laughinh, hugging each other. And that's where we met. Adam and I. On the roof. Since we were kids, we always sat on our roof at new years eve. He on top of his house, almost falling down because the roof was It was our little tradition. He was the oldest son of Mister Hover, our neighbor. And so we sat there, every year, not able to talk to each other, but we didn't need to. We smiled. We just smiled. And screamed the hell out of our lungs at midnight. One night, last year, he changed our tradition. He somehow managed to climb the tree, that happened to connect our houses, and sat next to me. At midnight, we didn't scream. We didn't have to. We kissed.

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