Saturday, November 22, 2008

Peak Hour

She stood amid the peak hour rush, the crowd jostling about her, shoving and thrusting their way down the platform. She clutched an envelope in one hand, its edges jagged and torn from her eagerness to learn of the news. In her other hand was the letter. Her eyes scanned the page, flitting across the words; her breath trapped inside her, her life momentarily on hold. 

A train roared through the tunnel, its approaching force whipping rubbish and dust high into the air around her. She stood oblivious; her eyes intent on finding the word that would finally allow her to breath once again. The crowd around her drained onto the train, the doors snapping shut, swallowing them whole. The train sped away and she stood alone on the platform with a pounding heart and fine tremor in her hands as she read. It was then her eye caught it – the word she had feared but longed for. She stifled a cry but tears still welled in her hazel eyes. A empty Styrofoam cup bounced along the platform before her, and she lifted her gaze from the letter she held. She released the breath that had been caged within, and replaced  it with news that already ached to be told.  

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