Failng

I'm on the train, having left Sydney before dawn, fast-tracking towards the Blue Mountains. The irregularly scattered stops barely break the monotony of my trip. With my head bouncing against the cold window, with my innards shaking with nerves and anticipation of my first day at college, I can't quite go to sleep either.


Then...
"Where did you find it?" an ancient male voice, generously laced in glorious Ocker Aussie accent, raises up from the seat behind me.
There are three second of silence, and then the voice starts again, louder. "Where did you find it? Your hearing device." He seems to soften and stretch the vowels to infinity, as if hoping that making his words longer would help them reach his companion's ears.
"What?" an equally ancient, female voice responds.
"Where did you find your hearing device??" the male voice booms, albeit not impatiently. Just slightly exasperated.
"What?" answers the lady.
They repeat the exchange a few more times, each time turning up the volume just a notch. Sounding a bit more desperate.
"Where did you find it? Your hearing device."
"In your bedroom!" says the female voice at last, a note of triumph ringing in it.
The companion says nothing, but I'm sensing perplexed and intense exchange of face expressions going on behind my back. The lady's answer must have been not an appropriate one.
"What did you ask again?" she pleads.
"Don't worry about it" says the male voice. There's a soothing quality to it. And a barely recognizable hint of resignation. But more soothing.
Then there's no more.


The train pulls over at my destination, and when I rise from my seat, I see them. They're getting off as well. They are both tiny and wrinkled like prunes. She is wearing a pale blue knitted hat. A walking cane supports his fragile steps. They look as old as the trees in my grandfather's yard, firmly intertwined by their twisted roots.
I follow the pair gingerly towards the way out. I watch them help each other cross the gap between the train and the station grounds.
I know nothing about them, except that they'd just failed at an attempt to communicate with one another. Failed to be heard, to be understood, to convey their message, to connect.


Which is a near-impossible task between people even sans hearing problems.
Seeing this, the reflection that followed, make me kind of sad. So much for the funny post again.