THE OLD PLATFORM
The Key You Must Not Lose
Stefan Grieve
I got off the train.
No one had noticed.
How could they?
On to the platform I walked, up the stairs to the other side. As I made my way down I saw to my horror, the way through was closed. I should have bought a ticked. But it should have been open. Damn it! I had no money, I had spent the last of it on the key I must not lose. But wait a minute, they could be a use for it. Making sure no one was paying me any attention I walked down the old station platform. It was empty, apart from a twenty something who had short brown hair, a white shirt and black trousers, who was slumped in the seat.
As I walked by, the young man straightened up and said; ‘Alright, then buddy?’
‘Yeah,’ I said, and went on.
In front of me was a door with broken glass at the bottom, splintered, like a spiders web. I used the key and the lock opened with a click. I walked through to the small grey corridor. It suddenly went dark.
In my fear I dropped the key in the dark, and when I reached down I could not find it, just cold floor where my fingers craved for the touch of cold metal, the caress of the key.
I had lost the key I must not lose.
‘Alright then buddy?’ I heard a familiar, friendly voice.
‘Nope.’ I replied, anticipating the spider.
I heard a roar. I regretted not buying a ticket now.
