So recently, I’ve been spending a lot of time reading certain genre of novels that I’ve never thought I would ever flip open, even if you told me there was free bacon in it. It certainly opened my eyes to a whole new literary world, like literally; I had to open my eyes to read.
Since it’s only starters, my story will be kinda short. But no worries, I’m learning and improving. I promise.
The Tale of a Wrecked Train
It was a gloomy Monday morning. Once again, the horrid grasp of Monday has returned, haunting swarms of half-awake, grouchy middle-class working individuals. The routine of waking up and getting to work on a Monday is deemed to be morbidly tormenting, as though the Satan himself is manifesting his finest craftsmanship.
Train stations were crowded with commuters, all clad in their occupational attires. Some in their neatly-pressed Pierre Cardin shirt, some in their Donna Karen formal wear, some just plain T-shirt to reflect the wearer’s boredom of his mundane lifestyle. But they were all there for a sole purpose – board a train to work. On this fateful day however, the wait was unusually long, something must have happened to their train. Something terrible, as those present had feared.
Time was ticking. Those poor commuters were going to be late for work, a sin only the rich, capitalist-minded business owners can afford to indulge in.
Glances of anxiety were thrown around. The sight of people tilting their heads downwards every moving minute just to look at the watch became common. The air around the waiting platform began to soak itself with a faint stench from the sweats of impatient waiting. Just then, a croaked announcement made its way through the station’s PA system.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we are experiencing some technical difficulties with our system and the train will only arrive 15 minutes later.”
Sure enough, the train did arrive 15 minutes later and everyone went to work. Normal activities resumed and nothing interesting happened anymore.