Melanie Alexander

Run For It

The train jerked forward and I collapsed in my seat, fumbling the zipper on my jacket to make sure I still had it. The envelope. I squeezed my hands around the stack of bills inside, just to feel it was real. I wiped sweat from my forehead, shrugged out of my jacket, tucking the crisp white envelope under my leg. The only way to know it was real was to touch it, keep it close to my body. The train rocked the brick of money into my sore, tired leg.