Trains
In the silence of her room she dreams.
The familiar whistle of the six o'clock train wakes her; she is hopeful. A fresh day, another train, a new destination. One day she will get on board.
The buzz of laughter reaches her ears before she gets to the gym of her senior high school. Unnoticed, ungreeted, she enters, presses, like a ghost, through the clusters of students. Chaperons smile behind paper-covered tables. She glances at the bowls filled with colorful punch, rows of empty plastic glasses and stacks of paper napkins that are, for the moment, still neatly displayed. As she makes her way to the far end of the hall, she wants to, but can’t quite picture herself filling one of these glasses and sipping the alcohol-free, fuzzy, fruit juice.
On a bench at the back wall she wiggles into a comfortable sitting position and forces a relaxed smile on her face. Not too anxious. Not too happy....
Will be Published in The Prairie Journal:
www.geocities.com/prairiejournal/
