Andrew stepped out of the Mexican afternoon heat and into the train station. It was dark and unusually quiet. Shafts of light came through broken places in the blinds on the front window. He saw squadrons of dust particles flying in formation in the light and then disappearing into the cover of darkness.
He went to the window and addressed the man behind the glass.
"Excuse me, what time is the train due?"
The man never looked up but responded.
"I'm sorry, señor. Both trains are late. The one bound for Cielo and the one bound for Infierno."
Andrew sighed...
Christopher about 4 years ago
This is just a short story, 26 drabbles, I believe.
Christopher about 4 years ago
I just went ahead and posted them all at once.
Neville Hunt about 4 years ago
Wowzer! ...and why not. I look forward to reading this. Thanks Christopher.
Love the squadron metaphor; beautifully crafted. A good setup... I sense menace in the air, Señor, as well as dust... and Infierno sounds like a really hot place.
Christopher about 4 years ago
Thanks, Neville. It was an idea that came quickly and I wrote it quickly.
Christopher about 4 years ago
Thanks, Drew.