The Black Shoes Tell All

{1} Where Are My Manners, Introductions...

As one leather black shoe stepped in front of the other, it created a melodic tune that played in his head. He continued his pattern down a long strip of concrete that resembled the color of the sky, dark gray. He adjusted his suit and checked the watch unraveling from a golden chain, increasing his pace. He fumbled with the umbrella that sheltered him from the frightening storm.

Upon arriving at the small and antique train station, he took a seat on the wooden benches near the platform. He gazed to the left, then to the right, never making eye contact with the small group of people present. He checked his watch again this time mumbling, "Late," under his breath gaining the attention of a young mistress sitting near him. She fixed her posture and brushed off her dress. She looked at him for only a moment, making sure she didn't meet his gaze. He intrigued her, his subtle yet appealing apparel and his rimmed glasses brought a sense of mystery to him. She could only wonder who he was and why he was so concerned with the train's arrival. She positioned herself so that she met his figure.

 "Excuse me, sir." His index finger met the center of his glasses and pushed them up the bridge of his nose. 

He turned to meet her, not making direct eye contact, "What is it?" 

Her eyes averted away for a second, his voice alarmed her as it was not as she heard before. His voice was deep and soothing, almost like those of the men that arrive from the ships oversea. "You said the train was late?" 

He fixed his posture and looked down at the watch again, "exactly 4 minutes and 32... 33 seconds late." 

She shook her head, "That's absurd!" 

He smirked, "Where are my manners, introductions.... I'm Cullen, Cullen Smith." He extended his hand. 

She extended her gloved hand, meeting his clammy palm, "Elizabeth Edwards." Their eyes met and entangled in deep thoughts which they seemed they couldn't escape from. The train's whistle rang in his ears and his grip on her hand released.

As the whistle blew again, he stood up and smiled. The steam blew forming more dust cloud in the already dark atmosphere. As it came to a halt, it rocked back and forth just as Mr. Smith swayed in unison with it. His black dress shoes began their stride once more towards the train. The same melodic tune played through his head but was interrupted by another sound of clicking shoes. He turned around and saw the young mistress clicking her shoes against the concrete ground in order to catch up to him. 

She waved her arm in the air, "Mr. Smith, please wait!" He couldn't help but wince at the noise she made but he composed himself and froze in his tracks. He faked a smile and offered his arm to her. She quickly looped hers in his and walked along side him.

The two came to the great steam engine of the time, showing their tickets and making way inside. He inhaled the air taking in whiffs of Miss Edwards' fragrance and a mixture of sweat from oncoming men looking for work. His eyes examined the perimeter of the train's interior, becoming more disgusted by those who presented themselves in this train. If only all of them resembled Miss Edwards' elegant appearance and his own dapper looks. Miss Edwards gently pulled off her snow white gloves revealing her perfect, porcelain skin. Cullen couldn't help but examine her perfectly sculpted hands, taking them in his own and rubbing his fingers delicately against them. The fair woman's face was brushed with a shade of rose petals. "Miss Edwards I must say you are quite a beautiful woman. How is it that you do you not have a significant other?" 

She smiled, "Stubborn.... I'm quite the stubborn woman, Mr. Smith."

 A shrewd smile creased his face, "It's a shame... but I suppose your recalcitrant nature can be persuaded." 

"Mr. Smith, you have quite a way with words. But may I ask, what brings you to the great continent of the North?" The man fixed his posture once more, pushing back his shoulders and cleared his throat, "I was not aware of others knowing of my travels to the new world. How is that?" 

She tilted her head in a confused manner, "What do you mean, Mr. Smith?" 

"How is it that you know of my arrival to this country?" He grabbed her small wrist and squeezed it, "Tell me." 

She tried pulling away from his grip but was unable. She wanted to scream but his eyes pierced her into a dark corner she knew she would not be able to escape from. "Your accent."

 He released her and pushed up his glasses, "Excuse me for my abrupt aggression... I wanted to make sure I wasn't known here around this area of the world." 

She slipped her hand back into her glove and looked down at her lap, "What is it that you are running from, Mr. Smith?"

 "A very dangerous man, Miss Edwards."