Ficlets

The 10:45 to Kings Cross

Geoff, sat on the train, reading. He wasn’t really interested in the book, but it was a bit more interesting than the English countryside that blurred past the window. It was a lot more interesting than looking at the other passengers, who seemed to be on day release from somewhere awful, possibly Wales.

Then they stopped at another nowhere town on the way from Manchester to London, remarkable only because it’s between two more remarkable places.

That’s where she got on the train, Geoff hastened to move his bag from the seat opposite to make his corner of the carriage more appealing. He couldn’t believe it when she sat down. He kept stealing furtive glances from behind his papery barrier. Somehow she didn’t seem disgusted by his presence and would return his nervous smile.

He didn’t speak to her, and when he left the train he threw the book away in anger. Which is a shame because Rachel had spent some time slyly writing her number on the back cover while he’d been pretending to read.

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