Running did no good
I missed the last train home
The platform empty,
Cold, darker than I remembered
Five past midnight
The air felt heavy
The sword of Damocles
Hung above my head
I could feel it waiting to drop
As I made my way down the stairs
Hoping to flag down a cab
Something or someone slams into me
Knocking me to the floor
My head spun, I couldn’t see a thing
No one leaning over me
Waiting to apologise
The air had been punched out of my body
By someone who whispered
“Sorry, I can’t miss the last train…”
©anitadawes 2020
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