A pickpocket's playgroundA Chapter by Entrelesnuages
A blustery night. Gusts of wind are blowing raindrops everywhere soaking the crowd to the bone. I have a case of waiting for me in Lucknow and hope to arrive early Thursday morning to meet with Mr. Vanderhousen regarding the emperor's missing jewels. The crowd has been growing impatient. The rain has been making everyone more irritable. BOOM. Thunder. Everyone screams as the lights go out with an even louder burst of thunder. The lights come back up with a collective sigh of relief as from the crowd as they reassure themselves their bags are still where they left them. They say Indian train stations are a pickpockets playground. Finally the old train rolls into the station. It's already half an hour late. I join the wet cue of of people waiting to board. First I pass through the lounge car with faded red crushed velvet couches and a slightly mildewy smell. To the left is the dinning car where stuffy gluey food and overpriced "exotic" beers are served but I'm very tired so I head straight to my compartment. 6 bunks. I'm the third to arrive. My companions are already settling in: a stern looking woman in her twenties wearing a matching skirt and jacket in green tweed and a audrey hepurn-esque bun. A scruffy looking man in his late 40's with grey stubble, unruly wiry eyebrows, and a gut just peeking out beneath his wrinkled shirt. Resigned I select one of the claustrophobic upper bunks still better than the rickety middle ones. I dump my bag on the communal shelf in the middle of the wall beneath the window and climb into bed waiting for the lights to dim. Lightning flashes through the window. The door closes behind our next cabin mate but I don't examine him because my eyes are already growing heavy.
A rapid knock on the door. 2 AM. "Is there a doctor in this compartment?" asks a grim looking porter. "I'm veterinarian. What happens?" replies a gaunt looking man who must have arrived right before I fell asleep. "There's been a stabbing." explains the porter. "Come quickly". So much for a goodnight's sleep.
© 2012 EntrelesnuagesAuthor's Note
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1 Review Added on June 23, 2012 Last Updated on June 23, 2012 AuthorEntrelesnuagesSan Francisco, CAAboutI was born in NYC but I live in San Francisco. I live to read and write a little bit of everything. My favorite book would have to be Cloud Atlas by David Mitchell. I believe the secret of happines.. more..Writing
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