Flash Fiction: Seeing the Light

This story was written for the 7 November Flash Friday competition. After “Memento Mori” – the one I wrote for 31October’s competition – I wanted to do a more lighthearted story. The prompt was the photo and “treasure”.

Seeing the Light

After a while you get used to the ghosts at the station. The soldier with blood all over his uniform. The pickpocket who doesn’t know he’s dead. The ancient king with his grave treasures. Philip. The ghost train passes here once a month. Anyone who’s here nearly dies of fright when it rushes by, the ghosts all howling. I guess it’s a bit like being stuck on a rollercoaster.

Sullivan went into the light last week, but Philip has been stuck here since the first train to enter the station ran him over. He always goes on about how trains were better in his day, but doesn’t mind the current ladies’ fashion, though. He’s always bothering me while I’m sweeping.

When the clock strikes midnight, I hear the train and I step out onto the tracks in front of it.

And then I’m stuck sweeping again with Philip muttering in my ear.

Maybe next week I’ll see the light.

Chef at the Trans-Siberian rail wall, between Moscow and Khabarovsk. CC 2.0 photo by Leidolv Magelssen.

You can read more flash fiction over here.