The start of something good?

So I’ve been inspired and decided to write a short story.  I was inspired on the train, so the story is set on the train.  If you fancy being entertained then give it a read, it’s only the beginning but I think that it shows promise!

Arnold Sheilds Catches a Train (Working Title)

He coughs as he walks to the edge of the platform. It is early, he’s sure of that, but he hasn’t looked at the clock. He doesn’t want to. The clock tells him he’s going to die, it tells him he is running out of time. He’s not running out of time. He’s running out of platform.

The sign tells him not to go any further. He agrees. There’s something awfully authoritative about signs (authoritative! Unbelievable vocabulary!) and he wishes he had one above his head. It would tell everyone everything they need to know and let them make up their minds then they would – might – should – stop STARING.

The sign has a little man with an electric bolt coming out of him. He looks like he’s having fun though and for a moment the real man – who is probably called Arnold, although he’s not thinking about it at the moment – wonders about reaching up for the electric line because then he’ll have a electric bolt of his own and maybe he’ll be happy.

His bladder groans in frustration and he hears it. That’s not right. He feels it. He remembers why he came to the end of the platform, away from the eyes of the people who are watching for him to make a mistake and say something that he shouldn’t because he’s not that good with other real people. They can’t see him down here. No one ever comes to the very end of the station apart from little kids but they’ll all be at school. Probably. What day do children go to school? Is it today?

He gets his knob (penis) out and starts urinating (why won’t he call it pissing? Why can’t he call it pissing?) off the edge of the platform. He is facing away from them, they can’t know what he is doing but they probably think they know because everybody thinks they know what everyone is doing.

He finishes and shakes. He probably shakes for a little bit too long but that’s his father’s fault for not teaching him properly. The train tracks start to rumble as the train appears in the distance and he tucks his knob (call it a penis!) back into his Lacosse tracksuit bottoms. He feels a little piss (call it urine) leak out which disappoints him because that was the real reason that he shook himself so much. Still he’s wearing a dark blue that most people would call navy blue but not him so no one will notice.

The train moves past him, a large metal monster but he’s NOT a monster that’s right NOT a monster the train looks like a monster but only if you’re a children. Are there any children here? He can’t see any which is probably a good thing. The train stops with a hiss and a noise that goes duuu duu du dooo doo do which is probably the brakes but he doesn’t know because he is not a train driver.

The sunny sky reflects off the window to his right and he stops as the train does to study his reflection. A peak of thin hair hovers directly between his eyes, which would usually be darting around quickly but not now because he is looking at himself. His face is round. It’s too round it makes him look like a fucking CARTOON CHARACTER (not nice) but he calms down because he didn’t shave this morning and his stubble looks good. He does have a crooked nose – which might have been Peter’s fault – and thin lips but he keeps licking his lips so that makes them look redder which is cool.

The bloke who makes the train stop asks him something.

“Are you getting on mate?”

Arnold Shields sees the man in the reflection first. He has a funny hat on that makes him look like a postman like Postman Pat does. He looks kind. Arnold likes people who look kind. He notices that the man looks kind but tired. He probably wants to be at home with his kids and wife then suddenly Arnold realises what the man wants.

“I have a ticket.” He say as his hands dart to the pockets of his leather jacket. He looks down as he does and notices the scuffs across his front, realises what a scruff he must look (must be cleaner) and looks for a second at the man dressed like Postman Pat.

“I don’t need your ticket.” But Arnold keeps looking because sometimes people change their mind like the time he wasn’t going to have a piss (urinate) but then did because his bladder talked to him, groaned to him. So he shuffles his fingers around in his pocket as the man talks to him. Sometimes its better to be prepared.

“I just need to know,” his voice has changed, the nice Postman Pat man. Just like his mind might be changing. So Arnold keeps rummaging in his pocket and keeps looking for his ticket but how can he be looking if he’s not using HIS FUCKING EYES? (Calm down. Listen to the man, he’s a kind man), “whether you’re getting on the train. I don’t need to see your ticket.”

“I have my ticket,” (listen!) “But I do want to get on the train. Please.”

“Ok mate, do you need a hand?”

He won’t touch him unless he wants him to. But he doesn’t want him to so he won’t. Arnold takes his hand out of his pocket and says, “No thank you Pat.” and then steps onto the train. The doors swish behind him really quickly and then he is on the train.

He nearly falls over as the machine MONSTER starts to move then he coughs a little because he has a cough that just won’t go away. His dirty trainers – is that poo? He hopes not because poo is difficult to get off and it smells bad – shuffle awkwardly towards the middle of the carriage where he has to find a seat because the train is moving a little bit and its going to be difficult to stay stood up because his eyes just won’t stay still.