Saturday, 24 April 2010


There was a sheer white sky out and all I was thinking about was snow. My father was ahead of me on the train track we were following.
"Mark said that the trains don't run along here anymore." My father shouted. For some reason it was difficult to hear him. There was a noise like waves crashing against pebbles.
"Where are we going?" I called to my father.
"To see Mark."
I was filled with dread. I hate graveyards. We continued to walk along the track when suddenly a siren began to screech out of speakers. A train is coming and I was screaming out to my father to get off the track. I was running down hill towards a forest thinking about my father. Somehow I knew he was fine.
I walking deep into the woods, bare foot and thinking I must get to university on time.

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