The Lark
Published in

The Lark

When Everything Stops

Flash fiction

Photo by Nigel Tadyanehondo on Unsplash

It is all very specific, all very calculated. I must be at the train station by 6:30 am to get a decent parking space. Seven minutes is the most grace I can get. I’ve timed it. The train comes at 6:50 am sharp and I get on, always in the quiet car. These days I’ve decided to sit in the backward-facing seats just for practice. There could be a crowded morning and my equilibrium was thrown off that one…




The Lark shares fictional short stories and poetry

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Chevanne Scordinsky

Chevanne Scordinsky

Writer | Leader | World-builder

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