From Geneva to Paris

I’ve never been on a train before.  Or is it in a train? I’m not on top of the thing.  I’ve always been fascinated by them, especially with the manufacturing strides we’ve taken over the last 20 years.  Where to go? Moreover, why?

My family has been telling me to ride from Switzerland to France.  “The sights are something you must see, it’s incredible” my aunt always said.

The ride was short, a measly three hours.  Why would I want to waste my time with such a ride, just to come back again? Even if I stayed in the city, is that really me? Geneva is beautiful, I love my home.

I admit, I did need to clear my head.  It had been many years since Gabby died, and processing her loss has been tough.  Why can’t I continue to sit around all day, read my books, get lost in thought or walk the trails behind Mr. Brookwalds farm? I was processing things the way I felt best.  There is no right or wrong answer, no time limit for grief, I’m sorry I’m not like you.  Bitter, maybe I was still bitter.

“Michael, viens ici s’il te plait…”

“Mom, your French is horrible, please stop.”

I joined mother in the kitchen where she had the SNCF website open, browsing departure times.

“Look, you can take the 9:00AM and be there by lunch.  It’s the TGV Lyria too, their fastest most luxurious train.”

I pondered for a moment.  Maybe this was the best thing for me right now.

I caved to her will, and the next morning I was on my way to Paris.  I really did need to figure myself out.

The weather was most fitting.  My window seat gave me the morning sun, not too cold, not too hot.  My camera was able to capture pictures of the beautiful fields, mountains, and sky line.  My eyes filled with wonderment, looking at everything I had been missing – it was all so close to me.

Is this what people feel when they are alive? Not bogged down by the torment of depressive thoughts or anxiety? I feel like I am having a damned epiphany…

I fell asleep for the final hour of my journey.  Now that my mind had been eased by the soothing maglev and scenery, I felt the atlas stone roll off my shoulders.  “I think it’s going to be okay…” I thought.

I arrived in Paris shortly after 12 that afternoon, ready to take in the sights and culture.

One thing to remember when travelling, you have to look at the weather for your arrival city as well.  I forgot my fucking umbrella.

via Archived Daily Prompt: Sudden Downpour

3 thoughts on “From Geneva to Paris

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