Mid-Week Flash Challenge - Week 224

This week's photo prompt was taken by Jonathan Steele, an American photographer. He calls it Winter Train. He says: Essex Steam Train passing through Deep River Ct during a snowstorm. (that's Essex in Connecticut in the US).

I tried not to go for the obvious, and I think I managed it.

 The General Guidelines can be found here.

How to create a clickable link in Blogger comments can be found on lasts week's post here. 

There is also a Facebook group for Mid-Week Flash, if you fancy getting the prompt there.

Pushed

It was coming, she could hear it. Finally she’d be on her way. She could see the plumes of smoke above the bare woods in the distance, extra large in the frigid air. If she could just manage to get on it, freedom would be in reach.

She looked round the platform. It was busy. People were jostling for position. It wasn’t going to be easy to get on, let alone get a seat, but in the crowd she was invisible. He would come, she knew he would, and force her to go back. She didn’t want that to happen. She didn’t want the guilt manipulation: the begging, the tears. She wanted to be gone and on her way.

She manoeuvred her way through to the edge of the platform. People didn’t like it, but she was a small frail-looking woman, so they gave way – plus she had exceptionally sharp elbows. She didn’t look at them, just said, ‘Excuse me’ and ‘Sorry’ even though she wasn’t.

She looked along the tracks and could see the train coming, its headlamp cutting through the veils of freezing mist. It was like watching her future arrive.  She really hoped she could get on it.

She looked back at the crowds, worrying that he was there and had spotted her, maybe even working his way towards her. But she couldn’t see him amongst the hat-covered heads.

She edged a little over the platform line. She had to get on this train. She had to get away from him. He pretended every time to be sorry, but as soon as he had her back in that house, she would be the one that was sorry – sorry to have believed him again. He feigned to others that he was the victim of a cold hearted woman, but behind closed doors she was the victim of a cold hearted man. No more. Today she would get on the train and be free.

She took another step closer as the train was starting to slow down, ready to pull into the station. It was a huge magnificent black beast, ready to take her way.

She could feel movement behind her and a sudden pang of fear shot through her. It was him pushing through to get to her, she was sure of it. She turned this way and that trying to see behind her, but the crowd were only interested in getting on the train. They were trying to see round her and pushing forward.

She slipped, falling backwards, and cried out. A man grabbed her hand and for a second she was relieved. But then as he pulled her up his face came into view, and she panicked, letting go. It was him; he’d found her.

The crowd of people emitted a collective yell, but they were too late to save her. She fell onto the tracks seconds before the large engine pulled into the very same spot and rolled straight over her.

  She’d found her freedom.