Prompt for March 28: Four Lines of Prose that Take Place Inside the Train Station


[Prompt from .]

The whistle was screeching in my ears as I ran after the train, praying I could make it to the railing before it left the platform. Wheels continued to churn, steadily spinning faster and faster to gain speed, leaving me behind in the steam cloud. She had, indeed, left me.

What’s more, when I turned to slump to our bench, I noticed she’d left my love letters, still tied together in her mint green ribbon, and her engagement ring near one of the metal legs.


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