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©George Holdan
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©George Holdan
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©George Holdan
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Waiting for a Train
I’m wet and
cold.
Fur soaks up the
rain like a sponge in the bath.
She said to
wait.
I’m counting to
see how long.
She wriggled
through the fence.
Mother will beat
her again for getting dirty.
She lay down to
rest on the railway.
She said she was
waiting for something as well.
55 words
@nickjohns999
This story was written for Lisa McCourt-Hollar's 55 Word Challenge
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