The Meeting

There is so much commotion around me.

 

Standing at the railway platform where we usually met, I remember the last time I saw her. She was crying out in extreme agony; she could not bear the pain. I had to let go of her. I was helpless.

 

Today, I am here to meet her — three months after her death.

 

As I wait for her to come, I am seeing my dead body being removed off the tracks.

 

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This is my first attempt at writing. I know it is bad .. but, I am a learner 🙂
The above form of writing is called a 77 Fiction, where we write a short fiction story in 77 words or less (title length not included).