99-word story: The Last Train
The iceberg-theory: sometimes, what matters most is left unsaid.
This week’s 99-word story, The Last Train, is about a man, silent contemplation, a secret, and a suitcase.
What lies inside is for you to imagine.
The rain, diagonal in the light, drums on the station roof.
One man sits apart from the others, suitcase on his lap. The station clock ticks off another minute. He checks his watch and taps his foot.
A distant horn sounds and a light appears.
Looking around, he opens the case again, stroking his hand over the contents. He closes his eyes, then the case.
The tracks hum to the approaching train and the people get up, ignoring him.
When it departs, only a child looks back. The man sits alone, suitcase still on his lap. Another minute passes.
My Words, My World 