Like Ships That Pass In The Night - Part 3

Good afternoon everyone!

(or good morning, good evening or good night depending on when and where you are reading this.)

So, yes, you read that right. This blog post is indeed the third in the series of connecting flash fiction pieces that I have started working on. I know I know, I'm just too good to you lot aren't I? It's a burden I have to carry.

Well anyway here it comes. Would be nice to know what you think of it, any improvements that can be made, either to this one or to the series as a whole. Or indeed to this blog as a whole.

Oh, and if anyone has any suggestions as to what to do with it further then let me know as well. Actually, better make that CLEAN suggestions. :-)

Ta ta for now

Like Ships That Pass In The Night

Part 3

“An Offer”

The Sun is rising over the roof of the train station, oranges and reds gradually giving way to blue and the whites of the few clouds. It is a cool, crisp sunny morning and she walks swiftly down the street, white water vapour illuminating each breath. It’s still cold enough to require the grey woollen hat and gloves but now with the promise of brighter days to come. The hat was a present from her mother several Christmases ago and now a reminder of today. What might come. No, she reminds herself, of what will come if not today, then certainly in the next couple of days. A week at the most they have told her. She must go. She doesn’t want to but she must.

Thoughts of ice cream on the lawn and make up boxes turning a young girl into a princess come to the foreground. She breathes hard to prevent the tears. For a moment she is back there in the happier days. A car horn brutally rips through the memory ordering her to get out of the way. Without noticing, lost in a sea of memories she has stepped out into road by the station and an ever busy taxi driver wants to get his fare. Sorry she mouths and hurries on her way again.

Entering the station ticket area she hurriedly arranges passage not even having time to buy her routine coffee. The gate allows passage when the ticket is produced and pushed into the slot and pops out the other side. Picking it out again she glances at the timetable a few feet above her looking for the platform that she needs. She has but a couple of minutes to get over the bridge. Walking quickly, weaving in and out of the slower people, she hears the announcement that her train is approaching the platform, sees it appear and allows herself a sigh of relief.

The platform is crowded and she makes her way through the gathered throng. All of a sudden she is bumped into by a man wearing a long black woollen coat.

“I’m terribly sorry” he says turning round.

More images fill her mind when she sees his face. A hand reaching out to help her with her suitcase and a coin rolling across the floor towards her. He smiles the same smile she saw the first time.  

“Hello again” he says

“Hello,” she replies

“The train has been delayed by about half an hour I’m afraid. And you haven’t got your coffee. Would you care to join me?” he asks

As she looks into his brown eyes she feels herself wanting to say yes.

“I’m sorry I can’t” she replies, “I’m on a different train this time.”

As her train pulls away and, catching a glimpse of him opening the door to the coffee shop on their platform, newspaper in hand and waiting for the lady with the pram go through first, she hopes he will ask again another time.