Through a railway carriage window - the railway childrens father

Reads: 217  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Commercial Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
i thought id write a story based on the poem 'from a railway carriage' and linked it to the father off the railway children as he returns from prison. Please read and let me know what you think and what i could add!

mike

Submitted: February 24, 2014

A A A | A A A

Submitted: February 24, 2014

A A A

A A A


The 9:40am service strolls into platform 1, just in time to save me from a life of stress, strain and pain. The glimmering engine rumbles past with the chocolate and cream train full of excited passengers that are ready to experience the thrills of the Great western railway.  The distinct smell of burning coal flows past, making me shiver with joy. I board the service and take my seat and I slide my sturdy, wooden framed compartment door closed and sit back into the world’s most amazingly comfortable seat, yet remaining soft to take the weight of my body.

Then, blasts from the engines whistle and off we go! Climbing out of the station then we begin to pick up speed to where the train begins to bounce along. Faster than fairies, as we passed through the country, house after house shoots passed our soot covered window. Then entering tunnels and bridges, passing hedges and ditches. The British country, covered in bright green grass, as fresh as can be. It’s perfect to smell the air, so smooth and cool, and the release back into the world from which I was locked away from.

Field after field, farm after farm. Horses stand in the fields like statues until the train comes past, then their heads lift up to where I almost see a smile from them.  The horse’s life, hard and dull, standing in fields and then ending up pulling carts along. They must feel the pain I get from the work I have to do. My life pauses as we pull into a country station. A special delivery ready for the market. The whistle blows, and we are off again, scaring the babies and warning the spotters.

We storm up the incline, passing a field full of brambles and berries, as a small family picks the juicy blueberries from their stalks.  The same way my life was picked away, away from my family. Then under another bridge to find a homeless man sheltering under it. He is ready to join me in my new life, from which my old one sent my poor children into poverty.

Over a level crossing we go, with a road that follows this old railway line. Coming up alongside us, a farmer and his load and his horses for an engine. Then past a river, the sparkling reflection of the train, skimming over the water. Then we pass the fishermen and their wives, prepared to stop for a moment to wave at the passengers that fill the train. The mean and spiteful wilderness of the rich, don’t bother to wave back but the rest of the train get out their seats and wave their white rags around in the air.

At last, I sight the beginning of my new life with my family. Pulling into the country station, and then call of the station master as he shouts the station name. I send my best wishes to the guard, Ron. He was always on this service from before I was locked away till now. Then, I step of the train thinking of those men who framed me and ruined my life.

I place my luggage down, and inhale the steam from the train. Then a tall young girl stands on the platform searching for something, and then I caught her eye. She started walking then running towards me shouting “Daddy, my daddy” it was my daughter, a rush of joy and excitement filled my body as she rap’s her arms round me. And then I never thought of my horrible past again.

By Mike abbott Aged 16


© Copyright 2020 mikie6024 . All rights reserved.

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Add Your Comments:

More Commercial Fiction Short Stories