When It's Time to Move On

The Station - Chapter 59 - What do you think now?

The light was absolutely blinding. Harris could barely keep his eyes open. Only due to his frequent visits to the station did he know where to head. He felt the knob on the door off the hallway. 

Here the light wasn't as striking. The objects he'd placed on the table lay before him, unmoved. Harris gazed affectionately at the frame he extracted from his pocket before setting it down with the rest of the items. 

As he backed out of the room, he cast a sweeping look at them all; he still had no clue what their purpose was, but it made him feel as if those people were there with him. He was sure if he were to close his eyes, he could imagine himself surrounded by his friends. But he refused to go to that place. Because he knew that if he did, he may never want to leave.

Now, back in the sunlit hallway – the vast, expansive glass ceiling magnificently reflected the sky above. It was so bright, he could barely perceive it, Harris could somehow locate the light's presence nearby, despite the immense radiance. 

He was certain the orb on the door had rejoined it, perhaps this was the reason for all the luminosity. But he was drained, too much to consider the many probabilities. And so he simply waited for the voice to speak.

"You are quiet," it responded to the silence. "When last we spoke, you were quite unlike how you are now."

"I don't know if there's anything more to say," he found his voice gravelly, although he was surprised that he still possessed the power of speech.

"Then what do you expect to happen now?"

"I went through those four doors. Now I'll wait for the train to pick me up."

"Do you not think that is too simple? If it were that uncomplicated you could have left whenever you wanted." The light replied, sounding rather surprised.

"Honestly... I really haven't given it a thought... for what's waiting for me now."

"Was it because your mind was directed toward other pressing matters in those doors?"

"I don't know."

"Or you merely never touched upon the notion?"

"I don't know."

"What do you think now?"

"...I don't know?"

There was another silence between them. Harris did nothing to break it. There were a million things running through his mind concurrently with absolutely nothing at all, a new kind of chaos he could not grasp. What he felt, in his chest, was something that was entirely inconceivable; he wanted it to burst out, for the light to perceive it. Because words could never describe the myriad of emotions coursing through his being.

"I understand." The voice resumed, confusing Harris. "Do not be alarmed, conscience is my state. You have, in some ways, connected to me."

"So..." He gulped. "You've known whatever I've been thinking this entire time?"

"Thinking and feeling are so very far apart. One is a pedestal away from another. One could imagine a storm of emotions that have the power to sweep citadels into the wind, yet that person would not be thinking, it would be their emotions pouring beneath the surface. That is what I connect to. 

"I hear the roar of a person through the tempest of sensations." The voice spoke eloquently, making him grasp onto every word, despite its tone remaining as impassive as ever. "Therefore, to answer your question. No, I have not been privy to your thoughts."

Harris breathed, a burden lifted. He didn't need to form the words anymore, and so he let himself crumble. Finally, he could, there was no more need to hold himself together; he was in a safe space.