Silhouette
Somehow I recognized the silhouette. Yet I can’t fathom from when or where. Or, perhaps it was simply the feeling that was familiar: a profound foreboding. The feeling had visited me in the past, either in a dream or some precarious circumstance — the details of which were as opaque as the face in the window. Penetrating me.
All I could see were the shoulders and a head, staring at me from a train window as I was approaching to board. Plenty of folks were visible through the windows, as it was brighter inside than the evening that engulfed the platform. Yet, he was alone in full shadow. The face would be close to the window to be so void of light. And to get the closest view of my approach.
The silhouette might not have observed that I changed the trajectory of my steps, as the shift was such a subtle reaction to my noting it noticing me. Instead of boarding that car, I headed toward the next.
The gaze followed me. It enveloped me whole. As if it had been watching me for a long time.
I quickly boarded beyond its pervasion.
An hour into the ride, we stopped at another station. The foreboding had dissipated and I resolved to visit the car I bypassed to see if I might identify the silhouette.
Passengers were seated and standing. Some preparing to depart. None seemed threatened. The gaze had been for me alone.
As I made my way through an aisle of people in motion to the furthest end of the adjacent car, I slowed my steps. Would he identify me first?
I found him in the last section: a cardboard cutout leaning against the window. It was a picture of a smiling train conductor holding a printed sign as a friendly request: “Please leave these seats unoccupied.”
by George Alger
WANT MORE?
Subscribe to LIMINAL STORIES (free) for more short stories and flash fiction.