Sitting on the train home I reflect on the day. Walking around the places I once knew a year ago had made me introspective. How odd it all looked thru these different eyes I now owned. Memories piled up like traffic in downtown L.A. I'd changed, grown, become something else in the past year, but the sensations were still familiar to me.
A man sits near me on the train... He leans forward towards me and licks his lips nervously. I know he's planning on speaking to me. He's scruffy, badly in need of a shave. His clothes look well worn, but at least it seems as tho he's attempted to care for them. His head is shaved and covered by a brand new baseball cap.

"Hey um, what's your name?" he asks eventually.

When he speaks I recognise him. "You aren't trying to pick up on me are you?"

Now it's his turn to recognise me. "Oh my god! I haven't seen you in ages! Word around is you left here."

"I did. I live in London now. I'm clean, I quit smoking, I'm working, I'm living life. And I'm happy. When did you get out of jail?"

"About a week ago. So you really are out of it all huh? Well if you're interested I have something... I'll share. I live right by the station here." We were pulling to a stop at one of the stations.

"No, thanks seriously, but not on your life, never again."

He looked a little crestfallen, disbelieving. And then a glimmer of wonderment shone in his eyes. I stood up and hugged him as he left the train, and I got a whiff of the sour, acidic and oh so familiar smell I associated with him and the past. And for a second I was stuck... Then I let him go and was gone.

Walking back to my family's house from the train station the street lamps dimmed and blackened as I passed underneath them. It felt like even the streets I grew up on were turning their backs on me for my choice on the train. Endlessly I sifted thru memories, tasting each as a wine taster might. A little bit of pain, some joy, and fear. Repeating through my mind, and relentless refrain: You can never go home again... You can never go home again... you can never go home again.

I felt a momments longing for days lost. A deep, dull pang.

As I walked up the stairs I paused to look at the distance. No stars shone in the sky. Here, in the BA, all the constellations are on the ground. The lights of the city shine brightly in the night.
I smile a bit... Maybe not being able to ever go home again really isn't always a bad thing after all.

Want to comment on this Short Stories? Sign up to Edit Red and you will be able to comment on Short Stories and get access to: Upload your own stories and poems, get readers and their feedback, promote your work...