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Have You Seen This Woman?

5/12/2004

Most of my trips are nothing special. I go where I’m needed
to help rebuild what’s considered necessary infrastructure
and I come home to wait for my next assignment and trip to
some other pile of rubble in some other former industrial
city. The people I deal with are in the doldrums, the places
I go have been destroyed, and the ideas and philosophies
I bring with me to press and pound into them are foreign and
rarely accepted without resistance. Because I enjoy the
ride and because it saves my company a little bit of spare
change, I’ve always opted to travel by train if I could manage
it. Flying is new and fashionable and has its perks, such
as speed and efficiency, but at least going by train allows
me to sleep in comfort, enjoy whatever outdoor scenery
still survives as it rolls past my window, and occasionally
meet a few interesting people along the way.
<br>

In the fall of1946, this trip was no exception from the norm.
The few parts of Germany that survived the repeated bombings
were countryside and my work in Berlin and Hamburg was more
a discussion of how to work around rubble removal than it
was a lesson in restructuring the banking and government
systems so that the German people could again begin to become
self-sufficient. The entire country was damaged, down
to its very foundations. With the people being physically
divided by a number of political interests and an immense
dislike by the native peoples for the English, Americans,
and Russians there was little I expected to be able to do
with my four week assignment outside of gaining a little
trust and getting to know my future contacts on a first name
basis.
<br>

The ride home was equally uneventful from one point of view,
incredibly eventful from another. The people enjoying
or perhaps enduring locomotive travel in addition to myself
on this particular trip seemed as if the 10 months since
the end of the war had just caught up to them. There was little
conversation to be had over coffee and rarely did anyone
make eye contact, most passengers seeming to drift around
the train in a state of semi-consciousness. Clothing seemed
almost universally gray and their personalities appeared
equal to their chosen fashion trends. One thing in particular,
however stood out so differently from any other trip I’d
ever taken, and frankly any other experience in my life
that I’ll likely never forget the event and I can only hope
that the person it concerned happens to cross my path on
earth one more time during my lifetime.
<br>

I sleep nude. Nothing else to say about it or to describe,
I just do. It’s more comfortable for me. No tossing and turning
to tangle me in whatever I’ve chosen to wear and no worries
about bringing along sleepwear, plus I’ve grown so accustomed
to it that not doing so has become irritating when trying
to rest. Tonight I had managed to fall asleep clothed while
reading a days old English newspaper on the bed and had only
gone so far as to kick my shoes off. I turned off the cabin
light, though I left the shades to the large, horizontally
rectangular window completely open, the full moon outside
illuminating my room diagonally across the bed and towards
the corner away from where I was busy unbuttoning my shirt,
removing my tie, and lowering my trousers. I like to watch
the world go by as the wheels click and clack over the tracks
and tonight the growing hills of Austria wee speeding past
my window. I had awakened during REM sleep and my cock was
as hard and straight as it would ever be had I been with a woman
and it wasn’t going down any time soon. This had made sleep
in the confines of my clothing uncomfortable enough to
wake me, as it had been bent down my left leg. My plan was to
strip and get back into bed, maybe relieving myself and
my upturned erection before nodding off. I stood there,
caressed my balls a little, perhaps half-smiling to myself,
enjoying the breezy comfort of being completely shaven
down where no one would ever know.
<br>

I don’t know how long I stood beside the bed, half asleep
and gently stroking the length of my shaft with a fingertip
or two when the door moved. From where I was standing I could
see the door to my cabin quietly swinging open and immediately
stepped back into the deep black shadow from the lavatory
because of my present state of arousal and undress. Christ,
it must have been after midnight. The light from the hallway
shone over the shoulder of a woman who walked into my room,
creating a silhouette around her figure but completely
masking her face from my vantage point. As quietly as she
could, she closed the door behind her and took off her hat
and gloves. My first thought was that perhaps she was expecting
the room to be empty for some time and that she figured I was
in the saloon car drinking, too busy to know she was rifling
through my things, though that notion was whittled away
when she slipped out of her shoes off and began to unbutton
her shirt as casually as if she lived there. I was completely
taken aback, unable to move, being both too terrified to
say anything because of my lack of clothing and because
I was more than a little curious about just who was in my room.
More of Austria raced by in the pale light outside the window
to my right. My heart was pounding in my ears while she continued
her unknowing striptease, my mind turning over a number
of ideas about what to do or say, though they all seemed incredibly
stupid or embarrassing. She unbuttoned her shirt as I watched,
fascinated, and hung it on one of the coat hooks behind the
door and reached around behind herself to unzip her skirt,
the diagonal slice of moonlight cutting across her stomach
and chest, highlighting one bra covered breast and a set
of garters, stockings, and panties. Having no other alternative
in mind, I simply cleared my throat. She screamed and pulled
her arms in front of herself, throwing herself into the
dark violently into the corner where the door met the wall.
<br>

“I’m sorry, ” I said as calmly and meekly as I could, “but
I think you have the wrong room. This is my cabin. What room
are you looking for?” She said nothing in response and simply
stood motionless in the corner, one thigh lit and glowing
in the eerie light. I took a half step forward. “I’m not sure
what cabin you’re looking for, but you’ve chosen he wrong
one. Do you speak English?” I watched her thigh straighten
in the dark as she stood up straight and took a step forward.
I wasn’t sure, but I could have sworn that I heard her giggle
over the repetitive droning of the wheels on the tracks
as the train sped along. Her lithe arm lowered and pointed
at my waist and I looked down to see that the bulbous, round
head of my stiff cock had emerged from the darkness and was
the only part of my body exposed in the light. I was positive
she had giggled at that point and my cheeks and neck burned
with embarrassment as I immediately stepped back. She
walked forward and stopped in the light, one shoulder and
everything above it lost in darkness, everything below
illuminated in high contrast moonlight and shadow. Slowly
she began to turn around and exposed her back to me, her light
hair pulled into a tight bun on the back of her head. Her arms
moved around to her back, the moving muscles and bones visible
in the light as if they were moving under satin. She seemed
oddly toned, every piece of exposed skin striated and tight.
She hooked her fingers under and over her bra clasp and undid
the garment while I watched, too afraid to move or say anything.
As the bra hit the floor she turned, her arms wrapped around
her chest, covering her breasts.
<br>

I felt my back teeth begin to tingle and knew my cock had no
hope of returning to any other state in the near future regardless
of what I tried or did. This moment was etched into me from
then on.
<br>

One arm remained across her chest and the other reached
out to me, palm up, as if waiting for a tip. Not knowing what
else to do, I covered the length of my throbbing member as
best I could with my arm, cupped my balls, and stepped forward
into the light. She took a half step towards me, letting
me see her chin and mouth and smiled. Her teeth seemingly
outlined in black because the contrast in the room gave
her lipstick a charcoal hue. We were both silent and standing
there, staring.
<br>

“I’ll uncover if you will, ” I said quietly, hoping not
to seem menacing in any way, yet still she stepped back.
I assumed she could speak English and understood me. My
head felt light and I was having a hard time concentrating
on much other than keeping covered. “Though if you want
to leave, I’ll certainly turn around and allow you to dress
in as much privacy as possible.”
<br>

She still didn’t move. Feeling she may be afraid of me and
also may not know what I was implying or asking if, of course,
she didn’t speak English, I stepped back into the shadow
and felt my rod begin to falter a little, my balls drooping
in my cupped fingers. At this point she stepped forward
and let out a quick “Ah…, ” stopping in mid word. She covered
her crotch with one hand, her silky panties shining on either
side of her fingers. Again, we stood still, facing each
other. My eyes fixated on the fingers concealing the layer
of satin stretched over her mound. I couldn’t look away,
though she had no idea where I was looking because of the
shadows immersing me. She began to rub. Not much, but with
the tiniest little movements. Her fingers swaying over
the glossy fabric, just barely moving up and down. My penis
angrily grew rigid under my forearm. I looked up and noticed
that she was no longer covering her breasts, but had moved
one hand to one nipple and was circling her left areola,
the light causing the hard nipple to create a black streak
of shadow down her ribs and across her side, her fingers
occasionally marring the perfect black line. I stepped
forward and she giggled again. Fluidly, almost as if she
were liquid, she raised the hand in front of her crotch and
let it slip beneath her panties, pushing the waistband
down, though her hand and wrist prevented me from seeing
anything else. Her hand dropped from her breast and began
to unbuckle the belts keeping her stockings raised, though
not being able to do so very well with her right hand alone.
She fiddled through the process for a while, getting nowhere.
Finally, she slid her right hand out from under her panties
and used it to deftly cooperate with the other and unhook
the complex machinery that is a modern woman’s lingerie.
Hooking her thumbs beneath the waistband of her garter
belt, she bent over and wiggled it down her hips and legs.
My cock twitched and I felt a shiver run through me as she
stood back up, completely exposed, arms and shoulders
back, revealed in all of her pale, illuminated mystery
in front of me. She had an extremely athletic body, like
nothing I’d ever seen before. She was less about voluptuousness
than she was about angles and tense curves, her breasts
looking like that of a young girl, barely there at all though
her nipples were amazingly hard, pointed at me like steel
thimbles perched upon small mounds. Her stomach was flat,
though there was a ripple of flesh on either side of her belly
that angled and pointed down towards her hidden pussy.
From there, her legs appeared from beneath her panties
and changed shape, rippling every time she shifted her
weight. Her arms moved fluidly and with and incredibly
fine and delicate muscularity, her forearms and shoulders
appearing as if a number of fine cables slid under her skin
as she moved. It was the most amazing thing I had ever seen,
a woman so taut. There was nothing masculine about her,
though she seemed to possess a control and strength few
men could match.
<br>

And for some reason, here she was, nude except for a pair
of light-colored satin panties wrapped around her hips
and two silk stockings shining in the moonlight of my cabin
in a train speeding through the middle of the night in Austria.
The entire situation was both immensely arousing and frighteningly
odd. I uncupped my balls and allowed my arm to dangle by my
side, letting my massive shaft fall forward, pointing
upwards and at her with a sort of urgency and straining,
curved slightly towards the ceiling. It bobbed slightly
with my pulse, and sprang upwards once or twice as I flexed
it. The skin of the head was stretched so tightly that it
almost shone, luminous in the moon’s glow. “Mmmmmmm, ”
she said, as she reached out again, palm up. I took another
step forward and her hand turned, her nails appearing to
have black polish on them in the sharp black-or-white-only
light. She placed the very tips of her fingers on the top
of the head of my cock and her thumb beneath it, holding it.
I realized I hadn’t been breathing and carefully exhaled.
She didn’t move. I reached out for a breast, letting my index
finger slide and skate around one rigid nipple. I heard
her sigh softly and her fingers began to glide over my cock,
not gripping it, but more as if she were feeling for any imperfection,
rough edges or texture that might snag something delicate,
like she were feeling for a knife in the dark. I looked up
at her face, invisible in the shadow that crossed her diagonally
above the neck, then gazed down, finding her hand buried
in her panties, the undulating fingers creating waves
visible in the fabric. I grasped the base of my own shaft
and squeezed it hard.
<br>

She let go of my cock, letting it eagerly point at her, and
moved between my body and the window, facing me. Now I could
only see her hair, the rest of her figure haloed in the light
but deep and immensely black inside. Her hair seemed steely,
obviously light but the actually color hidden in the gray
tones of the ambient light. She ran her palms up my chest
and over my shoulders, standing on her toes and brushing
her lips against mine. I could smell the faint odor of wine
on her breath and felt her tongue flick at my lips like a serpent.

<br>

Then she knelt. Her cheek pressed and nuzzled against my
cock, which was pressed straight up against my abdomen
like a signal pole. She slowly ran her fingers and hands
over my ass and hamstrings, occasionally feeling my lower
back, again, as if she was searching for some slight hidden
thing, like the princess feeling for the pea under the mattress
before going to bed. She licked the underside of my shaft
at the base for a split second and her fingers slid into the
crevice of my ass. Her thumbs were on the outside of each
cheek and she spread me apart as she suddenly pulled my hips
towards her face, engulfing and swallowing my engorged
cock in one glorious motion. I felt as if I were melting in
her mouth, my thick pole dissolving between her lips, on
her tongue. I couldn’t see her face or my prick in the shadows,
though I could feel her moving in smooth strokes over the
length of me, no jerking, no sharp movements, but just one
continuous undulating motion back and forth along my straining
member. The shadow of her head was covering my stomach,
the muscles around my belly button tight as I tried to control
the urge to thrust myself down her throat. I covered her
hands on my ass with my own and tilted my head back, reeling
in the agony of having my cock sucked so exquisitely. The
pleasure was velvety smooth but her movements were too
slow and deliberate to pull me up fully to orgasm. I closed
my eyes and simply wallowed in the velvety warmth of her
mouth, lips wrapped around my shaft, tongue under my cock’s
girth, feeling her hands pull at my ass as if trying to split
a piece of fruit.
<br>

I groaned out loud and she stopped so suddenly that I almost
fell over. She put her head down and pressed the top of her
head against my thighs, her right hand slowly encircling
my cock at the base, pressed against my bare, clean abdomen
and balls. With the other hand, she felt me, feeling where
there should have been tufts of curly black hair but there
was only smooth skin. She ran a hand between my legs and tickled
the underside of my balls with the tips of her fingernails
and began to move her other hand over the nervous length
of my cock. Looking down, it seemed as if my wet cock were
made of glass, so shiny and sparkling. Her fingers moved
effortlessly over the length of me and she swung her head
to the outside of my right thigh to get a better angle for
her grip, the top of her head the only thing I could see. My
cock emitted little sounds as her fingers began to move
faster over my wet cock. I watched, seeing her hand twist
slightly with each stroke, my thick penis glistening under
each linear movement, occasionally palming my head and
rubbing it as if she were breaking in a catchers mitt. Then
she let go of me abruptly and didn’t move.
<br>

I stood there, mouth slightly open, my cock throbbing and
bobbing as the train slowly wavered along the tracks, not
knowing what to do. Slowly I began to rub myself while she
fondled my ass, the pleasure being too much to bear at this
point. I began to pleasure myself faster, wanting to relieve
myself in one huge, massive burst. Then she darted around
and moved.
<br>

She turned from me and slid forward on the bed, turning her
ass up to me, bent over in front of me in an almost exaggerated
fashion. Slowly she hooked her thumbs under the waistband
of her panties and pulled them down slowly, so slowly in
fact that it was almost hard to endure length of the process.
Her ass was exposed and she stepped out of her panties altogether.
One stocking was beginning to lose its grip and slide down
her leg. I ran my hands over her smooth back and ass, feeling
the strength in her haunches, and placed my cock up the length
of her cleft, letting it sit atop her. It sat there in the
light, hard and stiff, curved slightly upwards and curved
also to the left a touch, though so much less so. You would
never notice if you didn’t live with it everyday. I enjoyed
the vision, my shaft resting, pulsing, quiet raw energy;
yet impatient, wanting to bury itself within her in a rush.
She reached back between my legs and again tickled the underside
of my balls before reaching up and pulling my cock down,
into the dark and towards her waiting opening. I felt her
moving my head along the length of her damp slit, feeling
her slip the head in between the lips. She moved it slowly
and deliberately, making sure it was completely wet and
slippery. She held it between her index finger and thumb,
moving it over and over, zeroing in on one spot before pressing
it hard against her and beginning to rub forcefully. She
had pressed the head of my cock against her clit and was using
it to masturbate, stroking herself with the smooth, wet
head of my cock. She turned her ass out farther still, arching
her back an amazing amount and put her other hand to her mouth
as she worked, rubbing me faster and faster in circles and
strokes around and against her clit. For me the feeling
was slight but pleasurable; the movement of my head against
her wet opening was wonderful but her actions and the pleasures
they induced in her was much greater. I watched her shift
and move her body, the muscles in her back illuminated by
the moon as if she could glow in the dark. Patches of black
would appear and disappear in the bright white of her skin
as she squirmed and twisted gently and her pussy grew wetter.
I watched the two dimples below the small of her back but
above her ass, highlighting her waist, as she began to moan
almost imperceptibly. I tensed and tried to feel everything
I could but there was only so much pleasure I could derive
from this form of stimulation. She squeezed my cock head
hard now, moving faster still and beginning to hum to herself,
slowly rising in pitch and intensity. Her work was diligent
and continuous. She never stopped or slowed, but maintained
a gradual increase in the power of her movements. I looked
down, straining to see my cock in the dark, trying hard to
watch her pleasure herself with me as if I were simply an
object, but I could see nothing. Her pussy was obviously
very wet at this time, as I could feel myself sliding back
and forth easily, occasionally the entire head being directed
to the very edge of her opening, buried halfway between
her lips before zipping back to swirl around her unhooded,
hardened clit. My erection was astoundingly hard, the
idea of a woman using me to masturbate arousing me to the
point of its veins growing and wanting to escape. My shaft
was like marble and I could feel it being pulled and moved
in directions it didn’t necessarily want to go but would
willingly tolerate.
<br>

Her free hand reached back and slapped her left ass cheek
as she suddenly began stroking furiously, my cock making
wet squishing noises loud enough to be heard over the clacking
of the train’s wheels as my swollen, round head flew over
her sopping pussy and clit. Reaching further back with
her left hand, she groped for my own, her mouth open now,
panting and seeming almost as if she were going to begin
crying. I put my left hand into hers and she placed it squarely
on her asshole, grinding my fingers into her nearest additional
orifice. I used my thumb to press and rub her puckered opening
and she let out a squeal, her grunting increasing in volume
almost to the point of distraction. She was rubbing my cock
so quickly against her clit that it was almost as if it were
vibrating, sliding back and forth over the soft folds of
her pussy lips for moisture then darting back again to buzz
over her clit for a time. Her shoulder blades pointed up
and she raised her face to the window, the back of her tightly
bunned head visible to me, as she began to tighten in every
conceivable place, her body looking as if it were trying
to escape from her skin. With one long “Ooooooooooohhhh, ”
she began to shudder hard, her entire body shaking in fits.
With this she let go of my cock and fell face down upon the
bed, her back rising and falling quickly with her breathing.
I had just witnessed the single most intense orgasm of my
life, I was almost completely spent, and I had as of yet to
even approach orgasm myself.
<br>

Slowly, as if in agony, she swung each leg up onto the bed
and spread them while on her elbows and knees. Her hand and
fingers reaching back to cup her thighs. She leaned back
towards me, her ass pointed to the ceiling, and pushed her
pussy outwards towards me. I stepped forward a little and
gripped my shaking member, pointing it at her and moved
in to fill her and wrap myself deep within the slippery folds
of her warm pussy. I met resistance. Her hand was already
there. Fumbling, she clumsily grasped my head and placed
it at the entrance of her opening. I put my hands on her ass
and tried to thrust into her gently, though she was so wet
I slid into her as if the entire length of me was covered in
glycerin. She let out a noise that was like the guttural
hiss of hydraulics as I plunged into her from behind, her
cunt clamping at and swallowing my dick the entire way in.
She slowly began to rotate her hips, up and down, over and
over, her ass rising and falling in front of me. The visuals
of the muscles in her back working in tandem with the perfect
roundness of her ass as it repeatedly bore down on my erect
cock, engulfing it and then releasing it again, clutching
at it as it emerged from within her, had me so close to cumming
so quickly that I tried to grab her hips to slow her down.
When I touched her she began to breathe through her mouth
and just began rotating her hips harder, up and down, fucking
me, bearing down on me for all she was worth with no movement
or effort required from me except to desperately try to
avoid cumming so quickly as to spoil things. She was rubbing
her clit now, this I could feel as she occasionally poked
me with a fingernail, though the feeling wasn’t unpleasant.
The idea that this woman, this unidentified, mystery of
a person was using me as a human dildo, fucking me like an
inanimate object and again approaching orgasm had me so
aroused that every muscle in my body was completely tense
and rigid. Again I placed my thumb against her asshole,
trying hard to keep pressure on it despite the massive movements
she was making, and she began to burst forth with, “Ahh ahh
ahh ahh, ” the sounds keeping time with her thrusts. Her
ass was moving in a way unknown to me before now, turning
downwards to devour my cock and then unraveling again,
as if uncoiling to take another bite. My cock was pointed
straight ahead like a massive divining rod, being buried
in the tightest, wettest pussy I had ever experienced,
and I had no control over anything that was going on. She
was in control, a slave to her own feelings, completely
unaware of my pleasures or how close I was to orgasm. I was
an afterthought, an object to use at this time, though not
necessarily to work with. She was relentless, beginning
to perspire with the massive physical movements she was
repeating time after time. In the light I could see the sheen
beginning to form on her back, her vocal noises beginning
to sound almost angered. She never grew tired nor wavered,
but continued in her perfect growing rhythm, slamming
herself down onto my monstrous hard-on as if to try to wear
it down, to subdue a wild thing. She was closing in on another
orgasm now, her breathing intensifying and the noises
growing in volume. I felt as I was about to fall off of a cliff,
the world seemingly shrinking around me as her ass torqued
and uncoiled, up and down, over and over, pounding my slick,
wet cock deep into her hungry, insatiable pussy. I pressed
my thumb into her anus harder, just barely breaking the
barrier between kinky and taboo when she bellowed with
an, “Aaahhhhnnnggguuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, ”
and began clawing at her own tightly drawn hair with one
hand. I pressed my thumb in farther and all at once she began
to spasm, screeching as she shuddered and seized, and bent
her ass down to clamp down on me with her ravenous pussy.
It felt as if it had a mind of its own from inside and I felt
her clench and grab at me repeatedly as she came in waves,
her back shiny and beaded with sweat. I began to move furiously
now as she knelt rigid and paralyzed, slamming my cock into
her for a few seconds that seemed like years, her soaked
hole so tightly clenched that I felt as if it would pucker
and I might not be able to get back in if I accidentally pulled
out. She placed her hands on the back of her head and clawed
at her hair and screamed, cumming yet again in violent jerking
motions and stuttering out loud as I thrust my thick cock
into her this few last times. With my stomach muscles so
tightly clenched they were beginning to ache, I felt my
balls tighten and lift, the base of my cock tingling as I
began to move to the very edge of orgasm. As she came she gripped
my cock repeatedly, spasming uncontrollably around it,
milking it, clawing at it from inside, urging me onwards
and over that edge. I pulled out and wrapped my fingers around
my swollen, twitching cock, the shaft oh-so-hard and veined,
slick and slimy with her juices, and began to squeeze and
stroke for everything I was worth. I stroked at a blinding
pace, then used both hands, squeezing harder with my fists
than I’ve ever done so before, teeth clenched, eyes closed
tightly, and exploded over her with a shout from deep down
in my chest, busts of cum jetting out of the sparkling, glazed
head of my cock four, five, maybe six times before they decreased,
softened and abated. I was standing on my toes when I came,
my calves tensed and in pain, my arms rigid, one huge mass
of stressed muscle and ligament, vibrating with the energy
of an orgasm that had erupted from me in a manner almost painful
in an incredibly powerful, glorious way. My hot, white
semen had streamed as far as her hair and was lying in huge
glossy pools and rivers on her back as she panted on her knees,
her back rising and falling abnormally fast as the last
few drops of cum rolled out of my glans and down my fingers.
I put a finger to the my lips and tasted myself, never having
the urge or curiosity to do so before but feeling possessed
to do so now. Salty. Very salty. My cock, though spent was
still hard and I let it go as if afraid of it, and it bobbed
in time with the train. My heartbeat pounded in my ears and
I felt faint.
<br>

After a few moments of thunderous silence, she moved first.
Keeping her head down, she pulled back the covers of the
bed and crawled in, slowly, as if moving in molasses, on
her stomach, like she had suddenly arthritic and movement
was painful. I stood there, my massive rod bobbing playfully
like a puppy, not knowing what to do or how to respond. Her
head was outside of the field of light shining through the
window, though her back was still visible to me, the covers
concealing her from the backs of her thighs downward. She
extended one arm and motioned for me to get into bed. So I
did. I lay there on my side next to her, facing her, not knowing
what to say and feeling awkward. It was one of the most uncomfortable
moments of my life. She was still breathing hard, this unknown
being in front of me. It was the strangest feeling, being
so warmly and tenderly drawn to someone you have no urge
to touch or even look at in this point in time. Quickly she
rolled over and into me, her cum covered back pressed against
my chest, stomach, and cock all at once. The liquid was cold
now, and felt clammy. Softly, as if she were a cat, she rubbed
into me, humming and smearing it between us, warming us.
I put one arm under her head and cupped a breast from above
and the other under her arm and cupped her other breast from
beneath, feeling as if I was fusing to her body. Our breathing
synchronized and I could feel her heartbeat slowly return
to normal through her chest. Soon she stopped rubbing against
me and eventually her body went limp in my arms. She was asleep.
I lay there for a while, staring at the moon through the window,
and wondered what exactly had just happened to me. At some
point I can’t remember, I fell asleep.
<br>

In the morning, she was gone. I hadn’t noticed her rising
or leaving, though I was sure I hadn’t dreamed the entire
epic: my chest was covered with the film and flakes of dried
semen. I looked everywhere for a memento or a note, though
there was nothing left in my cabin to suggest her presence
other than the residue left upon me. I spent the rest of the
morning in the dining car drinking coffee, hoping someone
would quietly or quaintly introduce themselves to me or
walk by with a knowing smile, though it never happened.
I noticed a number of people I had never seen before, probably
all passengers on a different car or folks who never managed
to leave their cabin. There was the group of journalists
and correspondents sent to tell the story about the reconstruction,
the Czech ballet dance troupe, numerous travelers on personal
or family business, and who knows how many others who’s
story I couldn’t manage to overhear from my seat. I spent
that night in my cabin with my door unlocked, hoping for
another nighttime visit, also to no avail. Sleep was light
and fitful; almost impossible.
<br>

When we arrived in France and it was time to depart from the
train, I made sure I was the first to depart from my car and
stood at the exit gate as if I were looking for a lost loved
one. My baggage was going unclaimed, though that was of
no matter ‒ it wasn’t going anywhere without me. No one made
eye contact, no one smiled, and no one seemed to notice or
take any interest in my existence as they shuffled past.
Thus I went home. Alone.

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