Joseph Steepleton

The First Date Joseph Steepleton

Simon thought I have always liked the morning light in August; it speaks to me of hope. Something good could be just around the bend. Would it be a spectacular fall, a glorious Indian Summer, or a crisp icy winter with the soft purple light and the promise of a green spring? The amber light of the August sunrise peaks slowly over the eastern horizon. The train's lumbering methodical rocking over the west-central Illinois landscape drew the carriage close. Rushnell is an utterly unremarkable place. Absolutely nothing would recommend this town to anyone. Time had passed it by. It was almost sad the day they handed him his sheepskin Master of Arts. Now he rides the rails back to anonymity and sober proper Presbyterian life. Chicago had allowed Simon to be Simon. With each mile, he felt himself dissolving back into a person he hardly knew and did not want to be. Simon focused his thoughts on the pleasant times of Chicago. His time with Michael, the secret love of his graduate days. Michael had sat next to him during his first graduate class. His blond hair and blue eyes riveted him. He was so handsome, sophisticated, and refined. Simon always felt rural, crude, and downright homely next to him, but Michael ever made him feel accepted and relaxed. Around Michael, he became the person he always wanted to be.