#FlashFictionMagic: On a Train

Sometimes we met on balconies; other times on fire escapes. Tonight, pressed for time, we were perched on top of the rapid transit train heading into the city. Wade brought the sandwiches, I brought the drinks, and though we couldn’t hear each other that well at 79 miles per hour, our hands communicated most of what we wanted to say. He stroked the bruise at the corner of my eye where I’d misjudged the height of a windowsill and I rubbed the shoulder where the bullet had grazed him. I gestured when I wanted a sip of his root beer, and he tapped my knee to request a bite of pastrami. When the food was gone, we stowed the trash in our bags to avoid littering the tracks and held hands, watching the city lights come up as the sun went down. At the express train’s occasional stops, we spoke a few words:

“I missed you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“When can we do this again?”  

Before too long, we heard the wail of sirens, and I pointed to the smoke on the horizon. It would have been nice to think it was just a house fire, but recent experience suggested more arson. Wade grumbled, but we both knew where our responsibilities lay. Donning our masks and capes, we prepared to depart.

Tomorrow’s newspapers would report the many awe-inspiring deeds the city’s best-loved superheroes performed that night, but they’d miss the most incredible one: the kiss we shared atop a speeding train just before we said goodnight and leapt into the fray.