the night fog looks golden
strangely sun-warm
behind the platform light. it’s not
as if she hasn’t been here before but
it feels like a parallel universe
every time.
no-one is here besides
the automated voice announcing
departures and the smoking ban
with eerie patience. she’s freezing
down to her curled toes
willing the train to outsmart
the announcer, and arrive too
soon.
it’s so tempting to just
walk away, following the rails but
the light ends just about five steps
from here. a freight train
suddenly hits the air and
wheezes
through the station, making her hair
whirl around her cheeks. it takes
far too long for it to pass and
looking at the other side through
the wagon gaps feels like
blinking
too fast. as the last one passes
she thinks it’s going to pull her
in
like a vacuum, directly, violently
and she remembers wondering if
that would be so bad. it would be
fate
not a decision she made. but the
announcement reassures her it’s
already ten past and
if she moves, she’ll
miss her train.
—Published 22nd December 2018
About Laura Tavasse
Laura Tavasse was born in Vienna and is stubbornly holding on to the idea of writing a book one day. Meanwhile, she spends her days studying something completely different, frowning at people on the evening train and waving at security cameras.
Twitter: @venetiana_