Copyright Dawn Miller
Those fleeting insights into other people’s lives…
Lights flicker over someone leaning on his spade, staring up as we pass. A family at dinner, glimpsed through undrawn curtains; a tantalising shadow on a blind as someone dons or discards their glad-rags.
I see long barren stretches of unlit fields, headlights threading through hedgerows and strafing the winter skies, smoke curling above cosy barges bobbing on the trackside canal, and planes winking slowly earthwards.
The train slows, brakes squeal, doors slam.
And, two stations before home, the greatest insight of all.
You, on the platform, in someone else’s arms.
All change then…
Well, got through November without plumbing the darkest depths, as I usually do, and now just two and a half more weeks before the days start getting longer… 🙂 I wonder when the WordPress snowflakes will start? Thanks as ever to Rochelle for leading the Friday Fictioneers onwards and upwards.
castelsarrasin 
Wonderful, Sandra. Elegant metaphors, a layered story, and a poignant ending for the girl on the train
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Thank you Neil, glad you liked it.
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Ah, Sandra, you draw us in with such apparent ease, then deliver the coup de grace so elegantly.
No change then…
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🙂 Thank you so much, CE.
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Beautiful imagery, some lovely metaphors. Wonderful writing Sandra. Just a small question… was the last line ‘All change then… or, did you mean all changed then? Just a small query. Thanks again for a wonderful story.
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Thanks for commenting Neel. No I meant “All change then”. In the UK, (I don’t know about the States or elsewhere) it’s what Platform Managers/Guards shout when the train isn’t going any further and passengers have to leave the train and or swap to another train.
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Thanks for the clarification, Sandra
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Dear Sandra,
I felt her anticipation as she takes in the well described scenery. And I was in the last gut wrenching, disappointing moment. Well done as always.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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Thanks for reading and commenting, Rochelle. I appreciate it.
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I was alongside you watching the ever-changing scene from the window then along came that final image. Beautifully written Sandra
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Thank you, Keith.
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Heartbeak. These things should be filed under “don’t want to know,” but there is no unseeing betrayal. Well done.
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She wouldn’t be the first to want to turn the clock back a few moments, I guess. Thanks for reading.
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Oops! The guy did not know about your schedules? 🙂
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Or didn’t care?
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🙂
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beautiful!
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Thanks, Tina.
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Who knew people watching could be so dangerous. All change indeed – great last line.
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Thanks Iain. I guess it’s like eavesdroppers never hearing anything good about themselves. So it is with people watchers… sometimes it pays to look away.
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I enjoyed the imagery from the train window and then felt heartbroken for her as her world changes so horribly. The last line is brilliant.
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Thanks Brenda, appreciate your dropping by.
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Beautiful imagery.
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Thank you, Lisa.
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Such a sense of normality, peace, homegoing—SMASHED! in one sentence. Wow. I’m breathless.
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Yes, reality can creep up on you quite unexpectedly. Thanks for reading. 🙂
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Oh, fantastic use of a few words!!
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Thank you, Sue.
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You are most welcome, Sandra!
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Such simplicity at first: a family dining, a man leaning on a spade, open fields.
Then the rug gets pulled out from under him/her? I love that you don’t let us know.
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Such simplicity at first: a man leaning, a family dining, empty fields. The BAM the reality that he/she is being betrayed. I love the fact you don’t let us know if a man or woman is looking out the window.
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I was conscious of the ‘gender-free’ aspect as I wrote it, wondering whether any tell-tale words would naturally emerge. I have a preference to leave my characters nameless, and now I’m wondering whether subconsciously I’m going a step further… 🙂
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So beautifully written, Sandra, phrase after phrase that pulled me further in – a gentle journey, well observed, that ends with a nightmare discovery. Fine storytelling!
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Many thanks, Jilly.
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I love it… all those little details, to see or eavesdrop into other’s lives… maybe even judging until you see that flaw in your own… yes after that everything changes.
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Other people’s lives are fascinating, particularly when you know they can’t see you looking. 🙂 And then your own can catch you unawares.
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love it except for the unexpected ending. 😦
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Unexpected indeed. Thanks for reading.
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Shouldn’t the WP snowflakes already be fluttering?
Wonderfully told story of a most rude awakening…
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No fluttering of WP snowflakes this year, Dale. I chatted with support yesterday. I will miss my snow.
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Dang… why must they change cool things!!
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I know. Seriously. I hope it’s just until they get their new editor sorted. I hope it isn’t the end. I didn’t think to ask. 😦
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It’s not coming back. You’d have to upgrade to a premium business plan and then install some other Jetpack plugins in order to have some equivalent. The “official” word is that they have been too busy with other things, presumably the new editor et al. to have done the coding or whatever etc. So, it’s no show, no go. And I suspect that even if there is a hugely outrageous cry about it, they won’t get it done in time for us to enjoy it. So another “free spirited gift” gone by way of the bah-humbugs. 😦
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Considering the state of the new editor, I think when it’s unveiled, support is going to be too desperately busy for anything else.
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probably – it takes some getting used to, that’s for sure!
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It certainly was a rude awakening. Yes, I’d thought the snowflakes started bang on the first day of September. Too busy hey? 🙂
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Not cool. They could at least warn peeps! 😀
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Duh! December 🙄
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The metaphors were neat little slices of life, but that last one. That was clever and devastating.
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Thank you Rommy.
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Lovely descriptions of views from the train until they come upon the last view. Nicely done.
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Many thanks, Jo.
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This is amazing. You suggest the insights into other’s lives, which intimates possible transgressions and then find one near the end. Your writing is so so well done!
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Aww thanks Sascha!
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Those last three sentences kick expectations right in the gut. The setup works so well. I was reading comfortably, listening to the murmur of the train, watching the outside happen, when that sight caught me by surprise… All can change in a moment, indeed.
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Thanks for reading, Magaly.
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Such beautifully descriptive prose. And then, your trademark ending. I’m so jealous as a writer 🙂
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Aww thank you. I’m glad you liked it.
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Nice description through the eyes of a person commuting regularly. Nice story.
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Many thanks.
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This paints such a vivid scene it’s extraordinary. And I’ve learned a new word – strafing – which is always a good thing!
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It’s a nice word – strafing. So evocative. Thanks for reading, Louise.
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Over from Dale’s. Well done. Seeing the picture, the story in my head was broadly similar to yours … that is, riding along then see something unexpected. Very good writing on your part!
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Thanks for popping over Frank. Any friend of Dale’s is a friend of mine. Glad you liked the story.
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🙂
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Beautiful, and great last line. Daydreaming about others’ lives only to have your own turned upside down.
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Thank you, glad you liked it.
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Uh-oh. Your lovely warm cosy journey took a trip into a cold shower.
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Indeed! 🙂 Thanks for reading, Liz.
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Fabulous writing, Sandra. The delightful descriptions were reminding me of ‘Wind in the Willows’ – one of my favourite books – when all of a sudden, BAM! and you turn the world upside down. That story really is an object lesson in how to write a Drabble – perfectly paced and absolutely to the point!
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Thanks Penny, glad you liked it. I loved Wind in the Willows too.
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Superbly worded. Loved the details about the clouds and the planes winking to earth and lights threading through hedgerows. And thanks for explaining in the comments the last line. It’s definitely not familiar to my knowledge to N.A. “train terminology” although I did suspect the gist of it.
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It’s quite a familiar call on our railways. Either due to strikes, power failures or leaves on the line… Thanks for reading.
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I really enjoyed that. The views into other peoples lives as the train passes, outward looking, and then a revelation into their own life. Brilliant.
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Thanks for reading. 🙂
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You’re welcome.
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Wonderful. You lulled me into comfort only to dash me upon the tracks!!!
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It’s a tough life! 🙂
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the story had to end this way, great story-telling
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Many thanks for dropping by.
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After reading Neil & C.E.’s comments, there wasn’t much left for me to say. In my opinion, you set the Gold Standard for how to write Flash Fiction.
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Such a lovely compliment Russell. Thanks for reading and commenting.
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Lovely descriptions and a great last line.
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Well told. You are a master of the art Sandra.
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Awesome story! Very well written!
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I loved the descriptive narrative, so real and such a gentle lull into a satisfactory world – then bam!
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A heartbreaking final image. Beautiful, vivid writing.
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Although the end was sad, the journey was enjoyable.
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I could picture the scenario before my eyes as I read through this post… It was like flowing with the words… Beautiful!
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Another excellent offering Sandra, I was sorry it had to end! 🙂
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Wow! That ending got me in the gut! Loved the word pictures you painted for us. A powerful story.
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I loved it! the peace, the journey, the train ride and atmosphere, you conveyed all this perfectly. pity about the end really!
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How beautifully you write, Sandra.
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