The early morning air was crisp, and a layer of fog had settled over the city. It began to drizzle. The train station was empty, save for a young boy, asleep on one of the benches. He began to stir, and soon sat up. Stretching, and kneading his neck, stiff from the night spent on the hard bench, the boy began to pack his things. No sooner had he begun than the loud clopping produced only by the sturdiest of boots echoed through the previously silent station. A woman, perhaps in her early thirties, soon appeared from around a corner. She approached the platform, and sat, situation herself on the bench adjacent top the boy’s. She set down her purse, a rather large, black leather affair, and began to rifle through it. She produced a lighter, and a pack of cigarettes. She lit one, and placed the lighter along with the remaining cigarettes, back in her purse. She took a long pull, and reclined. As the smoke wafter toward him, the boy wrinkled his nose and looked away. His eyes settled upon a duffle bag. He thought it strange, as it was not his, and he had been there since the day before, and did not remember an such bag arriving there. Maybe it was a bomb, and they soon would be blown to pieces, he thought. Maybe. He drew closer, in an effort to discover its origins. The far corner, which was invisible from the woman's vantage point, as well as the boys previous location, was torn. Through it, a thick stack of bills was visible. The boys eyes widened, and his breath hitched. He let out a quite gasp before catching himself. The boy looked over at the woman. Her first cigarette had burned down, and she was lighting a fresh one. The boy slowly unzipped the bag, making as little noise as possible. It was full of money, more than he had ever seen.
“Whattaya got there, huh?” the woman said, rather loudly.
“Oh, nothing! just packing my things,” the boy managed. His heart beat faster.
“You sure that's really what you got there?” asked the woman.
“Yes, quite sure,” replied the boy.
“Lemme see,” demanded the woman. And with that, she rose. Just as she did, the first train of the day arrived, screeching to a stop. The doors opened, and as quickly as possible the boy ran, leaving everything but the bag.
“Hey! Where ya goin?” the woman shouted after him. “ I just wanna see what ya got in that bag!”
The boy ran down the cars, until he reached the very front of the train. He jammed the bag under a seat. With this, he ran back the way he had come, and past the door he had entered through. After three cars, he stopped. Out of breath, clutching a stitch in his side he sank into a seat.
“There you are!” said the woman.