I stood naked on the train platform.
The man I had passed earlier staggered toward me. He was dressed in a black trench coat. I wanted to look directly at him but couldn’t muster the courage. In my peripheral vision, his figure was like a threatening storm cloud. He edged his way closer. Please don’t stand near me, I prayed.
But my prayer went unanswered. The man stood behind me. Why me, I thought? Can’t you leave me alone? I just want my own space. There was no need for him to stand so close. It was difficult to breathe. My armpits were sweating; my back ached from the base of my spine up to my neck. A thumping pain erupted inside my skull. My mind oscillated like plane turbines, and a thick inner fog rolled in from a distant place.
Inch by inch, the train made its way toward my end of the platform.
I moved closer to the safety line and the man lurched forward with me. Get away from me! I screamed in silence. When the train was only five meters away, the man pushed me over the edge of the platform and into the path of the train. I closed my eyes.
My eyelids snap open. The mirror reflects my vacant stare. People often preach that time heals, but I am yet to be converted. I am still crushed by the death of our marriage. The darkness of my heart shimmers in a blue haze.
Copyright © James Golding 2019