Her Chicken Scratch / Short Stories


Cecile waited at the railroad crossing. Her small duffel bag slung over her right shoulder and a half-full canteen hanging off her left. She didn’t know what she was doing there. It wasn’t as if she was waiting for a train to take her somewhere new. She was hesitant – and promised herself every hour before dusk that this would be her chance.

Written by Alecia Writes.