once upon a time

there were three cousins who lived together. they came and they went, they walked in and walked out, but their house perched on a field corner and stayed the same. one or the other or all of them could be heard talking or humming or singing throughout the day, so the house was content. and in the rare quiet moments, trains could be heard humming past as well, because that very same field where they lived was bordered by two train tracks, and near a third. it was a perfect double triangle of a life most days, as the youngest listened to her older, wiser cousins, and watched their faces as the trains went by. and they sang, and came, and went and life traveled on. but some days the youngest cousin felt too drenched in music and too far from the trains, and she thought in triangles.

"if only the trains would run closer. if only i could run farther. if only i could sing sweeter. maybe then i would feel safer."

but one day, the oldest cousin sang her last songs, and talked her last talks, and hummed her last hums... and then she left. past one, two, three train tracks she left, and found a new house and a new life to sing and talk and hum about.

it was quieter in the house after the oldest cousin left. there were only two cousins left to make up the contentment, but they did their best, and learned different harmonies. even the trains seemed to come at different times, and the tracks rumbled in different rhythms. some days it was as if there had only ever been three tracks and two cousins... but other days all the train whistles and songs and hums seemed lonely. the almost-oldest, almost-youngest sister reminded the youngest sister to be grateful for the music and trains anyway, especially when they don't last forever.

so the youngest cousin learned to be content, even with the oldest cousin missing. she learned to love the duets all through the house and to spend long hours being peaceful with the middle cousin. and the older she got the more she realised how fragile the house and the music could be. so she soaked up the music while she could, and listened for the train whistles on the tracks by herself. and she looked at other houses nearby, because she didn't want to live with the echoes of the cousins and the trains going always away.

and then one day, the middle cousin sang her last songs, and talked her last talks, and hummed her last hums... and then she left. past one, two, three train tracks she left, and found a new house and a new life to sing and talk and hum about.

and the youngest cousin sang her last songs and hummed her last hums in an empty house, and moved to a house down the road. friends came and went, and talking came and went, but when the house was very quiet and very empty, the youngest cousin could still hear the trains echo over the roof of the cousins' old house. and she learned to sing her own songs, and to hum her own hums. and she learned to be content all over again.