Last Train to Wormley
Riding the rails was her last grasp at freedom
Tires screeched to a halt. Fifty dollars in fives and tens flew into the front seat of the taxi. Door slammed shut with a ‘thank you’ thrown over her shoulder. Red hair streaming behind her, long, sparkling emerald nails clutched her bag to her side. The regal woman shoved the shopping cart to the side, dirty homeless waif along with it.