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Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Drama · #1009799
Flesh and Blood aren't the only ones riding the Midnight Express tonight
Tonight on the platform there was a sense of uncomfortable silence that gorged the already humid air. Only a handful of people were lingering on the platform waiting for the midnight train that was once again late. Every Friday night it was the same old story, the train was late and all we could do was grumble about it but nothing else we could do. Most of us had no choice on wanting or not wanting to take this train home, it was our only option to the destination that we were heading.

A man in a dark trench coat stood a few feet away from me, how odd I thought he was wearing a trench in eighty degrees weather but then again this is New York City. I stood with my back leaning against the wall while I tapped my heel to the beat of Mariah Carey's new song while glancing up occasionally from the book I was currently immersed in. Still there is no sign of the train. I go back to reading Rainbow Party, wondering if the party in the book would ever happen before the end of the book.

A sudden draft of cool air whips by sending my hair into my face which I struggled to push back into place. Glancing around I noticed that there was no reason for the sudden burst of cool air and that none of the other people standing on the patron where fazed by it. How odd indeed. Shrugging it off as it was nothing I went back to my book.
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1009799-Midnight-Express