Thrown | Fiction

Clare Needham

From London’s King’s Cross to Edinburgh’s Waverley station, the evening journey of four hours seemed short. All along, coaxed into being by the smooth motion of the train, Marie’s thoughts took a glimmering, hopeful shape, and she recorded them in a small notebook. Several times, she got up to go to the bathroom in her excited state, and on each return believed she saw the eyes of other passengers flick...

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