The train whooshed past him. He braced himself, his eyes trained on the last coach. She was on that train. It was now or never.
His right arm caught a metal pole and he was jerked off his feet. He felt the metal burn into the crook of his elbow as he struggled to grab hold with his left hand.
“No…” A whisper.
He pulled himself up. It was her.
“You weren’t supposed to find me,” she hissed. Her hands curled around his neck. He couldn’t move, felt the wind around them and the fingers tightening.
She stared at him for a second, then spat in his face. “Don’t ever come back.”
Her hands were faster than his brain. He flailed his arms in shock, then fell backwards and watched the train shoot away into the night.
© 2020, Friday Fictioneers, 8 August 2020
PHOTO PROMPT – © Jennifer Pendergast