The cold, damp air brought with it a musty, earthen scent as I pulled myself up onto the platform and paused to glance around.
In its day, the underground station would’ve echoed with life as people bustled to and fro, their minds solely engaged in going to work and then the return journey home. Little did they think of the world outside their sphere of interest and how soon it would all be swept away.
Once there were trains which ran along the tracks that vanished into the darkness, but now those tunnels only gave shelter to the thousands of dispossessed.
100 Word Story Challenge
The Train Station – © 2019 Paul J. Fleming