Boom

There was something catchy and light playing overhead. Lorraine sat, right stockinged-leg crossed delicately over the left. Her eyes saw but didn’t see as gloomy field after rainy pasture flew past her. She read but didn’t read the paper she balanced on her knee. She heard but didn’t hear the light, catchy notes that filled the closed coach. She felt but didn’t really feel the gentle rocking of the wheels coasting along the rails hour after hour. What did catch her attention was the shadow in the hall to her left. And what did catch her eye was the sudden flame as it burst from the silver lighter. And her nose caught the sharp smell of gasoline. And her hands caught on the wrist that held the impending explosion just as the flame tumbled from it. The clock struck midnight and she just barely caught her breath. The clock struck midnight and the still-lit lighter caught the trail of petrol lining the halls. The clock struck midnight and...