Member-only story
The Line.
There comes a point in life where you stick or twist. Change what you are doing, what you have been doing, or stick with the horse you rode in on. Some of those gambles pay off.
Sometimes it seems like just an ordinary opportunity in a long line of chances, but you’ll never know your last. I remember mine. That stranger rode into a town on a friday. Just like any other friday. The train brought in all sorts of folk looking to get away from the weekend.
Sea air, that kind of thing. I never knew the difference, I never knew anything different. But he saw me walking back from the shop, asked if I would take a drink with him.
He seemed alright, well dressed, well spoken, said his brother had missed the train, and he’d decided to come anyway.
So, I did.
He took me to the Grand, where he was staying. I’d never been inside before. It lived up to its name. He was a gentleman, asked me all about myself, my family, the area, all of it. And he listened, asked more questions, and I asked him the same.
He was a publisher, the family business he said, he and his brother had taken over from their father some years ago. It seemed to be going well. He asked me to meet him the next day.
So, I did.
But he was rushing out the door as I arrived, something had happened to his brother and he had to return home as quickly as he could. He asked me to go with him. I didn’t know what to say.
Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if…
