Meet Me At the Station.

Reads: 256  | Likes: 2  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Sitting on an uncomfortable bench, my hat perched on my leg, I re-read over the last few lines of her letter. I’ll wait for ten minutes. Until the next train back leaves. But if you meet me … If you meet me I’ll stay. Meet me. Meet me and hold me and never let me go again.
That was my plan. I would hold her and nothing could tear her away from me.
My thoughts were interrupted by a train whistle and I looked up to see, through the general hustle and bustle of the station, a red-and-black train slowing to a screechy stop. I placed my hat on my head and picked up my briefcase.
Then something rushed by me. I looked up to see a man running, a purse in his hands, and in the other direction, a small old woman with white hair hobbling forward.
I glanced back over at the train. The doors had opened and I spotted her familiar smooth brown hair, held up in a small lavender hat. Everything in me yearned to run to her, lift her in my arms. I wanted to hold her.
But then I saw the tiny lady, at least 70. I heard her feeble voice shouting ‘Stop! Thief!
Ashamed of my first thought - ‘why can’t somebody else take care of it?’ - I realized nobody else was, and he was getting away. So, I dropped my briefcase. Going from nothing to a flat-out run in seconds, I rapidly caught up to the thief. He tripped and I yanked the purse from his hands.
He was so young. Not much more than a boy, but smart – he decided not to fight me for the purse. I was much larger than him. Wiggling out from underneath me, he got to his feet as soon as he could and raced off. I was left on the hard, concrete floor of the train station, the woman’s purse in my hand.
I slowly got to my feet and brushed myself off, then returned to my bench.
The lady was standing nearby and she hurriedly approached when I returned. “Oh, thank you, thank you!” She exclaimed, clasping her fragile-looking hands together. I handed her the purse and she began looking through it frantically.
“Everything there, ma’am?” I asked, but I wasn’t listening for the answer. I was watching for her.
The deep sigh of relief caused me to turn my head. What I saw her pulling out made me inhale sharply.
“It was my grandmother’s.” the elderly woman said quietly, lowering the sparkling diamond necklace back into her purse. “Thank you..”
I smiled. “Glad I could help.”
Just then I glanced around for my ex-fiancee and realized she was nowhere to be seen. A train whistled and I noticed her re-mounting the steps into the red-and-black train. I excused myself from the conversation with the elderly woman and started towards the train.
“Ellie!” I shouted. A hopeful last resort. Then –
She turned.

Submitted: May 09, 2020

© Copyright 2021 Bronte Vanvliet. All rights reserved.

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Add Your Comments:

Facebook Comments

More Flash Fiction Writing Contests

Other Content by Bronte Vanvliet

Writing Contest / Flash Fiction