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, 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.