Sophie's

Sophie had chosen Stewart instead of Zach.

Stewart was smart and kind. He had a future, and was studying to become a doctor.

Zach was, and always will be just her best friend.

***

Five years later, Sophie was married to Stewart, they had a house in the country side, and Zach remained faithful to Sophie. He worked in their house as a house keeper, maintaining the house, and keeping Sophie company while Stewart was at work.

Stewart was very ambitious. Living in the quite country side and working in a hospital that was generally not very busy was not enough got him. He wanted something more, he wanted to contribute his knowledge and help more people. He was unsatisfied. So, during weekdays, he would be in the city, working. He will return to his Sophie every weekend.

Naturally, Sophie felt lonely. She was hoping after two years of marriage she and Stewart would try for a family, instead he was too busy building his career.

***

"I've been offered a better job in the city. I know you'd prefer living here, so we'd still have the same routine. I'll be back every weekend. Should be fine right?". He casually announced his promotion to Sophie while painting on his canvas.

"I'm unhappy Stewart." She storms off, and he follows her. Sophie walks into the room and slams the door at her husband who was right behind her. She slammed the door so hard, he had a mini heart attack and he lost control of his hand and dropped the pallet on his face. Paint was all over him and he lay down on the floor feeling depressed.

Zach was obviously not very far away. He was always near by, as he practically lived in their house. He was baking and had a box of flour in his hand. He took the opportunity to humiliate Stewart even more by pouring the flour on Stewart's face.

Stewart didn't flinch. He was used to the fact that Zach was jealous of him and that he was obsessed with Sophie. He understood him. After all, he did know Sophie before Stewart did, and who wouldn't fall for her. She was perfect.

Stewart could tell Zach was overjoyed that he and Sophie had an argument.

Sophie however was clueless on her effect on men.

There was a knock on the door. Then the door bell rang. Stewart sprang to his feet and tripped. He fell and was tangled up in tissue roll for some reason.

When he answered the door he did not look quite like his usual presentable self. He had paint, tissue and flour all over his face and white T.

"Are you Mr. Zoey" said the man at the door.

"Yes?"

"I was hoping you'd say no, however I am not discouraged. I am Mr McGee from the new medical centre in town, about 10 miles from here. I'm here to offer you a position as one of our medical researchers. We offer a decent salary and you'd be close to home. Here is my card, and once you are all cleaned up, please do not hesitate to contact me"

***

"Sophieeeee! Great news!"

I wonder what is to be become of Zach..

Sounds familiar right?

Motion was they key to it all.

For some reason that day we decided we wanted to shop some where different, yet familiar. A place we visited not long ago. But getting there was a problem. It took at least 16 hours by plane.

So we held hands and to form a human circle. Closed our eyes, begun spinning and pictured our destination. It was as simple as that. I could feel my legs floating. It was unreal.

When we opened our eyes, we were some where new. But it wasn't were we wanted to be. Our concentration must have been disrupted during the process.

I grabbed their hands and began running, closed my eyes and pictured a beach. And there we were, in a beach.

Then a lift.

Then plane.

Flashes of different locations. Different memories.

I closed my eyes again and pictured a train station.

It was an isolated station, in Japan. It was an old fashioned station, small and in the middle of a vast forest. The next train was coming, and it might take us to our destination, USA.

As the train approached, they rushed into the train, leaving their belongings. I tried to call out, and remind them of what was left behind. Since I was ignored, I gathered the items myself. The train left. Left me.

I could have just pictured the destination myself. Surely I could move myself there easily, since it was me alone. But why would I risk it. I might as well wait for the next train, which will arrive in 43 minutes, or wait for them to notice I was missing, and come back from me.

So I waited. Alone, I think.