Thursday, January 10, 2008

Travelling

He blinked a couple of times. Rouge had reread the letter a couple of times now. He tapped his fingers on his chin in contemplation. He blinked again.

Bleu hadn't been the same since the accident. He was quite funny most of the time. Suffered from wanderlust. Nonplussed by daily routines. Constantly lost in reflection. He hadn't been the same ever since.

Rouge sighed. A long tired pessimistic sigh. He looked out through the grilled windows, at the landscape whooshing past at the lethargic speed the old steam engine was maintaining. The skies were bright and blue. Rouge cringed. He hated the sun.

Supernatural? If only Bleu knew. Rouge would have dismissed the letter as yet another rant of a wandering mind. But then he had met Zed. And nothing was the same again. It was unfortunate that Rouge did not remember the exact incidents that led to the accident. The pouring rain and the crackling lightning had ensured enough distraction. But sub-consciously, Bleu must remember. Somehow must.

Rouge closed his eyes. The train lumbered on. Rouge remembered Zed's red cloak. The fire in his eyes. He remembered how Zed snapped his fingers. And how there was fire.

Rouge snapped his fingers. And there was fire.

No comments: