Fast Fiction Time

Ah. A little better 🙂 Sleep helps.

[Fast Fiction: The Morning Commute – January 30, 2006]

Angie sat cowering in the corner of the Train shelter. All around her, commuters were chatting excitedly, some whispering, some yelling. No one paid attention to her.

She hugged her legs to her chest, wiping her eyes on her knees. She avoided all eye contact whenever someone looked her way and that kept them from questioning her. She didn’t have anything to tell them at any rate, she just wanted to be left alone. If someone started to get too close, she would shrink in on herself and look away at the floor until they moved away.

“Someone should really DO something about this!” said one man angrily, pointing towards the security guards preventing the passengers from getting on board.

“What is this? The second this month?” answered his friend. “This is seriously screwed up.”

Angie jumped up at that comment and ran over to them, tears streaming down her face. She couldn’t take it any more. “It’s not my fault!” she screamed at them, making them flinch. “You think I wanted this?” she yelled at their retreating forms. “I didn’t want to do it! It was an accident! I didn’t jump, I was pushed!”

But no one was listening…

[Story (c) Mike Aragona]
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