The 12.24 To London


Where are you? 12 o’clock you said. Last night, in the park, holding hands, smothering me with your tender kisses, you promised me we’d do this thing together. You agreed. You told me you loved me. Wanted to be with me forever. So where are you? It’s almost time. The intercity train, the 12.24, the one that doesn’t stop. Two minutes from now it will come speeding through the station, just inches from where I’m standing, alone. No doubt you’ll have an excuse for not being here. You always do. Only this time, I wont be around to hear it.


Story 16 of my October Drabble Project (100 drabbles in a month)

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