Alone.
My entry for some crazy 500 word story competition in school.
My own company was beginning to dwell on me as I sat in solitude amidst the general clutter of my room. Time to make a move in order to lose, if only for a while, my troglodyte status. So in to the daylight I ventured…
I enjoyed the Sun’s beautiful rays as I head out towards the railway line. It made a change from the usual rain and wind that harrows old people as they use all their strength to fight with gales going about their usual business. This generally involves wandering aimlessly and moaning about things that I find very trivial. But then the weather is trivial I suppose. It’s when you think about it and embrace it that it becomes more than a neglected detail of every day life.
Railway Maintenance had repaired the barbed wire fence that helped fend off individuals who intended to cause a variety of careless vandalism. I, on the other hand, am not one of these yobs and I only choose to go down onto the railway line to reflect on my feelings and take pleasure in the seclusion that it offers. It isn’t very often that you get a chance to sit down in the gleaming sunlight without a soul in sight.
I kept walking along all the while finding excellent angles to capture the odd snap; some of nature, some of obscure things that bequeathed meaning.
After a while the obligatory train came by and I stopped to feel the cannonade of fresh air explode onto my face. In fact it wasn’t really all that fresh, I mean it was full of petrol fumes, but if I held my breathe it felt fresh and pleasingly cool.
As I progressed along the track something rare occurred: I saw a man who was, like me, alone. I always thought that this track was mine. I was like its ruler. If I saw some litter I would pick it up and take it away with me; if I came across weeds nestling amongst the poppies and foxgloves I would tear them out. This man had violated my kingdom.
I held up my camera and zoomed in on the lonely character. He was old and appeared disturbed. He was talking to himself and moving his arms frantically about his body scratching his greying hair violently. He then stopped, removed a concealed Bible from his jacket and clutched it, still muttering uncontrollably. I was confused by the spectacle; if I’d have seen him in town I wouldn’t have given him a second glance but here, alone, he became an exhibition.
Again I heard a train rumbling along the tracks. It got closer and as it did the man became more hysterical. Then at once he ran out onto the railway line and cast his Bible into the sky. I screamed, the train screamed to a halt and the man was knocked off the track… The man did not scream, alone in the ditch…