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It would have been quiet on that train tonight.

If it weren’t for you.

How much fucking louder can anyone talk on their cell in public?   So the entire crowded carriage heard all about your family, your love life, the colleague at work you’ve got a crush on, and that thing that Martin said to Gabbie at the party on Saturday that had him crying on your doorstep early Sunday morning, and her bitching to you over energy drinks and bad television last night…  

And the guy about your age sitting slumped back to back with you, looked at you in the black reflection of the window, looking at yourself in the black reflection of the window: as if one wasn’t enough.

There’s that long dark alley from the station to the main street, where the walls are so high you can barely see the stars – and getting off, it was just the two of you.   You talked a little faster and walked a little quicker, didn’t you? – smelling the double trouble of danger and death just faintly, loving life and endeavouring to put distance between yourself and this dark clone recharging all your survival instincts.   But it takes two to tango, and he’d fallen in step before you reached the safety of the street lights, joined at the hip, your right-hand man.

He hung up for you.

There was, of course, some brief noise with your urban pas de deux.

And then?

There was blissful silence.





  1. So that is why she hung up on me….

    Great writing as always.

  2. Hi!! Just couldn,t stop my comment.That starts to be funny : )))

  3. Damn Mr.8, that chilled me to the bone.

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