Short stories

The 1805 Pullman car from Paddington to Penzance

Time to go! The whistle’s blow,

The starched linen, the liveried crew,

Dancing down the aisle to serve you.

Entrée and main, dessert if you dare,

“Share a bottle of red?”

“Well, yes, if you think that’s fair.”

The table you’re shown to, with

Three other guests,

That lottery of company,

Let’s pray they’re of interest.

Bingo! Barrister, Professor, journalist and me,

Breaking bread with clever types

As we speed down the line to

My home by the sea.

Now they’ve all gone –

Departed at stations various.

Just my reflection and me

In a life that’s precarious.

Time. To go.

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