Blake Lindwall

The Little Black Book

Elise’s head knocked against the compartment window. The train lights flickered, brakes screeched. Blinking herself awake, she realised she was the only passenger left, that she had slept through her stop, and the train had pulled into a station she didn’t recognise. The lights were off and twilight smudged the station, with only streetlights stretching along the path to guide the way.