The air-raid siren sounded just as I arrived at the station, but the guard assured me it was just the new nightly test… I wasn’t too sure, horrible sound that it is, but I paid my two pounds and six shillings for my ticket to Yelby. I hugged Hestle farewell, and we waved to each other as I found a seat by one of the windows.
The train had been going for about ten minutes when a dapper gentleman asked if someone was using the seat beside me, I said there wasn’t, and he promptly sat down… I watched the fields as they passed by outside.
“Try this,” the gentleman said, snapping my attention back inside the train, “it’ll give you a new lease of life”; he promptly handed me half a piece of red fruit with a pin. “A sweet pomegranate… my name’s Ognar by the way, Ognar Rance.”
I don’t know why, but before I knew it, I’d told him my full name, Myrtle Rannigan, why I was moving to Yelby, to be closer to my sisters, and how much I liked pomegranates… I’d heard that the Yelby Express moved at great speed, but I was expecting that to be the journey, not the people on the train… but he is dapper, though, this Ognar Rance.
Posted for Six Sentence Stories, where Denise’s prompt word this week is lease.
The Mansionic Perspective 
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