Sex on the tracks turns tragic


NEWS ACCOUNT: Two lovers who officials said had “failed to overcome their natural passion” were hit by a train in Ukraine while they had sex on the railroad tracks, Russian news outlet RIA Novosti reported.
The unidentified 30-something woman died, and her 41-year-old partner lost both his legs in the Saturday morning incident in the city of Zaporozhye.

Submitted by David Kent
My initial thought was an assignment for some students:

Train Whistle

Train whistle, now there’s a lonely sound.   It kind of resonates like a love starved cry of a broken heart.  I should have picked a different bar; that was the third train I had heard since I order this stale smelling beer.  The beer head was barely surviving the unseen fingerprints on the inside of the glass.  Big deal.  It has been a shitty week that ended with a shittier bang.  Resign or be fired; great choice, like the needle or the chair.  So what if I drink a stale beer from a dirty glass.
I thought to myself that this had to be the seediest bar I had ever been in, and I wondered if the old five at 10; ten at 2 was going to hold true for the scruffy bunch of wannabe companions getting wasted on draught Pabsts.  A five at 10, I’m not sure you could add three of these skanks together and get to a five.
About then an actual eight walked in (okay, maybe only a seven and change, but in comparison!) and took the stool next to me.  I was going to ask to buy her a drink, when she ordered from the sweaty man leaning on the backbar. She told him to put it on my tab, and introduced herself.  “Layla.”  Just great, I thought, Layla.

Now this certainly wouldn’t be the first time a fly landed near me and took an interest, but I always have to make the first move.  First moves were apparently the house special of one Ms. Layla.
I took another sip of the poor excuse of a beer; it tasted, well, different.  Now it had adopted the odor of what had probably started out as a full bottle of smells-like, cheap, imitation cologne that really didn’t smell-like anything you could buy in a real store.

……….fill in the story………

So next time you hear that lonely train whistle in the dead of night, think of Layla and what lonely really means.

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About David Kent

I promote and encourage the advancement and education of writers everywhere. I dream of a society that once again incorporated literature into the acculturation of their children, replacing the empty calories of 22 minute sitcoms and mindless reality TV. But first we write, then prod them to read, and finally hope for the best. Read more at http://writerinthemountains.blogspot.com/

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