Radiance of the New Day
Radiance of the New DayA beam of morning sunshine pierces through the closed eyelids of Paul. A young arctic fox from the Scandinavian forests, he is a slender and kind creature with a bright white coat of dense fur. The sun slowly rises over the mountains as he stretches and finds comfort in his small seat in the back of this train car. He has been riding for one day now, along in this rickety old passenger line. The wheels knock the rails with a relaxing tempo as the car winds along the long stretch of lines through the mountains. The fog flows down the face of the mountains into the forests below, and creeps its way through the early morning shadows. The warm glow of sunshine filters through the mist, and refracts itself through the early morning dew drops on the trees, sparkling like diamonds in the light. As the light begins to fill the train car, it radiates off Paul's winter coat with blinding force as it would off the snow of his arctic habitat. Paul was a very quiet young man who was always very close to his family. His family was small and simple, like Paul, but Paul enjoyed adventure, and travel, and always vowed to see the lands outside the bounds of his home town of Bodø, Norway.
As he grew older he realized the possibility that he would one day leave home in search of new life. His father worked for the Norwegian State Railways, maintaining the railways and trains that tied each city together in trade and tourism. The railways flowed across the land like arteries of an economic beast, bringing goods and capital to each organ of the nation, cities that were joined together by borders and beyond. The rail nurtured the growth of countries, and strengthened their alliances through commerce. Paul always learned from commuters and traders of the world, who would transit through his town and would bring great stories and artifacts from far away lands. Bodø is a small town in the arctic circle, where the arctic sun will shine for days on end in the summer months, and hide likewise during the winter. Paul's family was sad to see him leave town, but proud of him, that he was able to go on his own, as a man to conquer the world. They would always be in touch, and Paul would always have a home to go back to. This journey, though, was not about looking back but about looking forward to a future of new possibilities and new adventures. He was excited, and he was thrilled to see the fields and trees roll by his window. He sighed gently, which fogged the glass before it slowly faded. He pressed his slender snout against the window, trying to look forward along the line. His dark nose contrasted his dense winter fur. He looked around the passenger car; he was the only one seated here. Alone, as usual, but he was used to this feeling. From a small town, he often roamed the woods alone, foraging for food to bring home for his mother to cook. He would spend time with the wilderness and care for the earth. As
he looked out the window, he wondered what sights and smells these new lands would bring to him. The land already looked different as he rode south towards mainland Europe.
Paul only brought a few things with him, one being a small book he always had. His favourite novel, a story of true love, and of courtship. He enjoyed this book because he always wanted to find true love for himself, but was too quiet and shy. Unable to overcome this social fear to bring himself to meet new people, he would spend much time alone in the woods, with the wild animals. In too small of a town, there wasn't many people to meet. He wanted a true relationship, but he needed to find it for himself, as he would find himself nourishment in the great pine and birch forests of Nordland. He stretched his arms a little and opened his book. The chapter opened with descriptions of a colourful festival taking place in the streets. Lights, flags, and music filled the open town square as the townsfolk were celebrating life and prosperity. The book was centered around a young man of whom Paul would imagine was himself, chasing his partner around in courtship. The novel goes on to describe vistas of dance and traditional dresses, twirling about from the view above. The characters have hid themselves away into the clock tower, to watch the party from above, alone together, and in fanciful seduction the young man takes his prize away into the evening and they spend the night celebrating together their love for one another. Paul always found this passion and courage inspiring, and always gets his nose lost in this novel for hours without even noticing the time tick by with its even rhythm.
Suddenly, Paul is interrupted by a soft, kind voice, which had just quietly asked him something. He looked up into the face of the young lady of whom had made to him this inquiry. She was a red fox, with flowing hair that danced in the breeze. Her eyes were golden, and her whiskers were long and curled in front of her slim snout, as if expressing a form of curiosity towards Paul. Paul stumbled with his words, his heart racing. She had a very fine full figure, and stood gracefully on two sparkling high heels. She was dressed in a dark cloak, with a dark sash tied around her waste. She smiled as he looked into her eyes. "Well?" she said, with a slight accent, "do you mind if I share a seat here?" Paul looked around the train car briefly, all the seats were still empty, yet she wanted to sit right here, next to him. He did not even notice her get onto the train. How long was she here, he wondered. Was I really caught into my book so deeply? Paul returned a smile to her, and moved over toward the window. She swept her lush, bushy tail across the seat beside her, and folded her coat under her as she sat down in the seat next to him. He could feel his heart pounding against his chest, his palms sweating. She turned to look at him and
smiled. Her pointed cuspids poked out slightly from under the flew of her muzzle. When she smiled, like white opal stones, her teeth sparkled with beauty in the morning sun rising outside the window. Her red hair glowed with the radiance of the new day. Paul knew he should say something, but didn't know what to say. His words evaded him as his mind was racing.
She looked at his book, and asked, "that book you're holding, it's written in Norwegian?" Paul stuttered slightly when he replied, but he was finally able to choke out some words. "Yes," he replied, "I'm coming from Norway. I was born there and lived there my whole life." She giggled slightly and looked back at him, looking into his eyes with a playful gesture. She said, "Your accent is really sweet. Where in Norway did you come from?" "Bodø," he replied. "It's a small town in the northern circle, by the Arctic Ocean." Paul broke eye contact briefly, looking around for inspiration for dialogue. He wanted to keep talking to her, to keep this discussion alive. Paul hadn't had much confidence in life, and definitely did not ever get to entertain the likeness of such a foxy lady before. He was shy, and felt pressured in conversation. He wanted to speak but didn't know what to say. He wondered briefly why he hadn't seen her get on the train, and asked, "what are you doing here, on this train line? Your accent sounds French. Were you just visiting?"
"I just got on in Oslo," she said, "I was seeing some old friends who moved here some time ago." The train lightly shuttered as it passed through some woods. The fresh pine scent filled the air, and Paul found a deep inner calming from this. He loved the forests, and spent many days and nights in the Skånland pine forests by the coast. She broke the silence, saying, "it's beautiful up here. The nature is so rugged and pure, untouched. I love to escape the city sometimes just to see the starry sky up here around a fire." She looked into his eyes, and with cheerful expression, asked "How did you know I am French?" She squinted as she smiled, happy Paul had noticed something about her, that he had recognized her native tongue. Paul told her about her father's business, working on the rails, and how he would be able to meet many foreign travellers and merchants who commuted and transported goods via rail. She was very interested in this, and was beguiled by Paul's dark blue eyes. Like two sapphire stones carefully set into fine royal jewellery, they glinted in the light with a deep tone, like the depths of the Arctic Ocean. Paul looked into her eyes, and the golden glow reflected the warmth of the sun outside, shining like the most precious rings and bands of the princesses and princes of the lands. He saw his reflection in her eyes, the image of himself as she was seeing him. They talked and talked, and took the time away before they
realized they hadn't even shared their names with each other.
She stopped herself suddenly, "Please excuse me, but I am terribly sorry. I hadn't properly introduced myself yet!" She quietly coughed, as if clearing her throat. "My name is Aimée." She extended her hand to Paul, and he took her hand, smiled, and replied, "I'm Paul. It is a pleasure to meet you."He picked up her hand and held it gently. He felt the warmth from the pads of her paw, and his heart jumped. His breathing rushed him. He never felt this way before; never did he ever get this close to a woman. He took in a deep breath, and looked at her. She was looking right back at him, her smile ear to ear in joy. Paul wanted to get closer to her, and express his feelings towards her, to see how she would react. Maybe by showing the emotions he felt with her, she may share with him the emotions she was feeling. He took her hand, and lifted it towards him. He kissed the back of her palm in a playful gesture. She took her hand from him, giggling playfully, and put her arm around him, wrapping her hand around his shoulder. She leaned over toward him, and tucked her snout into his furry chest. His coat grew in thick, as dense as the forests of his Norwegian homeland, to comfort him during the arctic winters. His fur was white with a touch of silver streaking about it, and it would sweep in waves when the wind blew over him, like long grass in lush fields. She was lost in his arms, in a coat as lush as the birch forests of Børvatnet. Paul rested his head on her shoulder, as she felt his chest with her hand. They held each other close in their arms, sharing their warmth, and their hearts. He closed his eyes, as she did hers, and they listened to each other heartbeat.
The train shuttered, shaking as the frame rattled harshly before returning to the soothing rhythm of the wheels against the rails. Paul suddenly awoke rubbing his eyes, startled by this, and looked around. He realized that he was just dreaming, sound asleep. He felt disappointed at this, because he had never in life experienced such confidence with a woman before. He looked out the window to catch a glimpse at the rising dawn. The early morning air felt cool and refreshing, but as the sun was rising once again, it spread its warm glow across the land. He stretched his arms, and happened to notice a lone young woman seated a few rows ahead of him, quietly reading in her seat. He must have been deeply asleep because he didn't even notice that she had gotten on the train. He looked below him, and noticed his book on the floor. It lay where he had dropped it when he succumbed to his slumber, opened to the final page of the final chapter. Paul read the words, and they lived happily ever after, but this was a new beginning for Paul, and as the morning sun was rising he took the opportunity to seize the new day. He gathered his bags, got up from his seat, and began to walk towards
her.