The Interview

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Mystery and Crime  |  House: Booksie Classic

Booksie flash short story - a story about a journalist on his way to an interview but not the one he expected.

The morning landscape of valleys and trees flashed colorfully by the train window. Charles Vurley was on the six o’clock to New York City from Philadelphia. Witnessing the golden sunrise, he squinted, trying to finish the article he was reading in the New York World Telegram. The myriad of articles on the recent bombing of Manchester offset his present anxiety.

That day he would be interviewing for a team of journalists writing at the foot of another World War. Daydreaming about his future in New York he leaned his head against the window. His exhaustion and the light put him to sleep. 44 minutes later the train pulled into Penn Station.

The clatter of the arrival and the screeching wheels of the train alerted him to wake. He stirred, picked up his briefcase, and in a daze, followed the other riders off of the train. The station was lit by the sun coming in through the glorious windows. He walked slowly to the center of the room and heard someone say his name.

“Chuck Vurley?” He turned as an elderly woman joined him and the sun lifted their shadows together.

“Yes. My name is Charles. Can I help you?”

“Actually, I came here to help you.”

He gave her a puzzled look because no-one but his closest relatives called him by that nickname.

“I know my way around.”  He said. But he paused because of her earnestness.

“How do you know my name?”

“ Victor Vurley sent me.”

Charles’s eyes broke into innocence.

“My grandfather?”

His suitcase was suddenly heavy in his left hand.

The woman was pulling something out of her satchel, and then handed him a ticket stamped with his initials and birthdate.  CEV – 041919

“You will need this.” She said softly.

“What is it?” reaching for it with his free hand.

“You will see. Come with me.”

Charles wanted to argue but stammered “I have an interview today.”

“You do, but not the interview you thought.”

“Mrs.? Can you please explain what is going on? My grandfather died when I was eight years old.”

“I know.” A twinkle flitting in her gray eyes.

“Who are you?’ he asked full of worry.

“My name is Rose Evans. I am your guide.”

“Where are we going?” he inquired in a bolder tone.

Rose turned toward the entrance. A bustle of excitement was causing commotion near the train just outside, and standing nearby were several firemen, the New York police, and the train conductor. A body was lying on a stretcher. He decided to get closer and noticed he didn’t struggle to get through the crowd.

The conductor was talking.

“His name is Vurley. Charles Vurley, a journalist I think.”

Charles glanced over the crowd at Rose. Her eyes spoke kindly and turned for him to follow. He felt the ticket in his hand. Beckoned, Charles followed Rose back into the light of the station where their shadows disappeared. 

 

 

 


Submitted: May 03, 2020

© Copyright 2021 robynne hawthorne. All rights reserved.

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Comments

L.D. Lauritzen

Nice story-good ending. keep writing.

Mon, May 4th, 2020 6:22pm

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