Silence had taken hold in our carriage as we sat in opposite corners of our carriage.
Suddenly the train jerked. It was coming into a station, the first stop on our journey. That jerk of the rails brought me back to reality and I shook myself as a dog does after getting caught in a shower of rain. As the train pulled to a halt the man stood up and reached for my hat and coat from the rack above the seat.
“I believe this is your stop for this journey,” he said as he handed me my things. I automatically stood up and took them. I climbed out of the carriage and for a moment stood on the platform looking back at the story-teller. He smiled at me with a tired smile and spoke as he pulled the door closed.
“Take care of the precious gift of immortality. It is yours now, guard it well.”
The train pulled away from the platform and the man was lost to my sight.
I stood on that platform and watched the train disappear into the distance.
As I stood I slowly realising that I was now immortal, and that my erstwhile travelling companion would soon be no more.
It was in 1867 when I stood on that platform with realisation dawning. Now I, too, am tired of this ever-changing world and want to rest.
I cannot wait for 2067 to arrive. I cannot bear the burden of immortality for two hundred years. Things now move so much more rapidly than they did when I had the conversation in the train. I believe that one hundred and fifty years is now the limit a soul can take. I have come to the end, so…
Take care of the gift of immortality for it, now, is yours.
Guard it well.