The train’s cold, hard, easy-to-clean stainless steel fittings were a godsend. My stop approached and I clutched my bulging bag on clenched knees. The bag jerked, I held it close; beating hearts were such a pain, but I needed at least one for the wife…who waited patiently beneath the swirling fog of headstone seventy three.
Written for the 55 Word Challenge. Choose a picture (or two if you want to overachieve!) and write a story using no more than 55 words.