The Train… Short story, or a poem?

Image by Elias from Pixabay

Not sure if this is a short story or a poem, and Anita isn’t sure either…

I left my body on the train going home
I float above, watching the conductor, shaking my shoulder, 
‘Last stop! You need to step off, sir.’
I watch my body stretchered off the train.
Following the ambulance, I am still attached to my body
They try to revive my still form. I feel no pain.
Darkness slams my floating form back into my body
I awake, strange faces looking at me
‘You are very lucky, young man. We nearly lost you.’
I wait for one of them to mention the strange protrusion
of waving light down my left side.
No one said a word, neither did I, for fear of being thought mad
I had the feeling that part of my floating form was out of line
Over the next few days when speaking to strangers
I could see what was about to happen to them
I told one young couple they would win big on the lottery
That they must give part of it to a charity, or their luck would turn bad
I knew what would happen to them if they ignored my advice
It wasn’t pretty.
I started getting headaches and was told by a friend 
that my astral body was out of line
Would this be my life from now on?
I hoped my astral body could find a way to tuck itself back in
Or was there some other reason I am walking through life 
with an astral glow down one side of my body…

©Anita Dawes2023

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