Atmosphere- C. Waterman © - 20/4/19
I and the other passengers hurry to the exit of the station as the twilight is slowly
fades into the blackness of the night. The station is in a cutting with high walls of
weathered sandstone. The lights from the train as it slides from the station dance off
the walls creating shadows that move like spirits from another world. We hurry up
the steps and upon reaching the top some of the passengers turn left to the highway
whilst I and a few other passengers turn right to take the path that runs down the
side of the station cutting. The lights on the path are diminishing as the darkening
twilight and fog close in.
I start down the path which has trees on the road side and a fence on the edge of the
cutting. The cutting looks foreboding as the lights from the station show only the rim.
I concentrate on the path; the wind is blowing through the trees sending the fog in
swirls that rise and fall around me. The fog is thickest around my ankles which
makes finding the path hard. I hear footsteps ahead and behind me, other
passengers, I hope.
The fog starts rise around me as I walk towards home; I hear quickening heavy
footsteps behind me. Who or what is it. I try not to panic or look back as the
footsteps get closer. Suddenly a hand grabs my shoulder, I freeze. “Hi Carol I
thought it was you. How are you?” I turn; it is a friend from school, Ted.