Today, on this Canada Day edition of Drabble Wednesday, I
bring you some ghosts, some trains, and a tiny touch of the apocalypse…
Endings
I sit on the damp park bench, careful not to slip on the wet
pavement. It’s a foggy morning full of drizzle, not any different from
yesterday or the day before. The days seem to blend now, with rain and faded colours.
Still, the park is beautiful. It’s quiet, no one is here
yet. The fog diffuses the morning light, giving the trees a soft, velvet look.
Almost a sepia tone, like pictures my grandmother showed me.
It won’t stay this way. The scavengers, the abandoned
survivors of the plague will come soon. Nevertheless…
It’s a nice place to die.
The Bridge
Why am I here?
I am standing on a bridge?
In the fog?
I am so cold…
Why am I here?
I am still on the bridge?
It is so cold.
I thought it was summer.
Why am I here?
Why is it so foggy?
Why is my dress sodden?
It is cold... so cold.
Why am I here?
I am cold… so cold… so wet…
I cannot see in this fog… wait, I believe… there are people?
Help me… oh, please,
help me…
And folks, this turn of the century bridge is the next stop
on our ghost tour…
Old Photos
Look at the photo.
Can you hear the train?
There’s no train in the photo you say.
I know. But it’s there, a ghost at my shoulder. I can hear
it.
I can hear its forlorn whistle, the clackety clack of its
wheels against the tracks, sense its rumble under my feet. I even smell its
belching smoke.
I see that smile. The ramblings of an old man. I’m not
crazy. The train is real. It’s haunting me.
It’s John’s old train you see. He’s never forgiven me, and
now he’s coming back. Each day the train gets closer, closer…
~*~
And for an extra Canada Day treat, here’s the link to my
free flash fiction short, Even the Paranormal Play Sports: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/113780
Even the Paranormal Play Sports
Things have taken a turn for the paranormal in a small
corner of Canada. Set against the backdrop of a hockey game, teenager Deidre
Dawson tells her strange story to a reporter.
