Bullet

Nakami’s mind was racing as he sat on the station bench. Could he do it, or was still too scared? He knew deep down it was his chance for freedom, but could he pull the trigger and make it to the platform’s edge? He counted the minutes. It didn’t help.

He fumbled in his pocket and took it out. Few noticed him in the crowded waiting mass. He examined the instrument of his future with care; every detail was checked. He knew it was fine, but repeated the process over and over.

Nakami felt the crowd move back from the platform edge and knew that his point of decision was close. He stood up. He was taller than the others and could easily see the slowing train approach the station.

bullet

As he moved forward his sweating hands gripped it hard. He looked at it again for the last time and, with his head held high, moved towards the stopping train. A conductor barred his way. Nakami raised his hand and released the ticket. Still in a sweat he boarded the train.

“The train to Kyoto is leaving from Platform 2,” said the announcement.

Author: Lindsay Craik

Writer & Poet Poetry, plays and short stories

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