They told me the train would come in at five in the afternoon. My friends, that is. I haven't seen them in years and it will be good to be in their company again. Going by train seemed quaint, romanticized in a way. A backpacking trip across the country. I would join them after the start of the journey, while they would have already been on the train for four hours.
But I was late. Horribly.
When I got to the platform, the train was on it's way out of the station. I wonder what it must have looked like, myself running top speed, backpack flying off my shoulder, grabbing a handle and swinging myself on board just as the last car cleared the platform. Probably more dashing and exciting than I imagined.
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