The 6pm
The 6pm pulled into the platform.
It had seemed a short wait.
Passengers inched closer. Different people, one destination.
He boarded, a spring in his step.
She had clung to him, giggling at random. Their faces conveyed beauty, their attire wealth. Not a care in the world, not a sorrow or regret.
…
He noticed the pair.
“Someone call Hallmark”, he sneered. There was no woman on his arm, no joy in his life.
He turned away, his mood as attractive as his appearance.
Finally.
The 6pm pulled into the platform.
