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A Bad Morning

It's winter's cold, empty, dawn. I'd hoped that today I could beat the others but whatever I do they are always there, entering my street as I leave the house.

Knowing they're following I increase speed, avoid glancing behind, hurry straight ahead. Their long strides reducing the distance between us. I break into a jog, if they catch me all will be lost.

I see welcoming lights and people ahead. Wait for me please, I must reach you quickly. Yes! I reach the train station in time to board, whilst the passengers for the next train still queue for tickets.

Story by:

Patsy Collins

submitted at 12:17pm

20 September 2011

Patsy Collins's web:

patsy-collins.blogspot.com