The train long since passed, the barricades still down, red lights still blinking their warnings. We sit in the car, wipers off, watching the rain stream down the windshield, holding hands in a comfortable silence.
A car, impatient or bored or brave, zooms past, weaving through the bars. This sparks a chain of rebellion, and soon we are alone, together, at the tracks.
The rain pours, tap-tap-trickle down our windows. We talk, we kiss, we hold hands and keep still. We marvel at the booms of thunder, we gasp at the flash of lightening.
Bliss. Here, with you in our car at the railroad tracks, my heart is full.