She waited with patience for the metallic monster, coughing out clouds of black soot to come to a standstill. With the beginning of the weekend the compartment berths lay vacant.
She enjoyed the journey albeit a short one. Alone in her own company, her thoughts gathered speed.
The verdant garden with its rufous petals with bees vying for attention did calm her demeanour. She, like the many inmates had a roof over their head and food to keep the belly quiet but not sufficient to call the structure home. Yet a complaint never escaped her lips.
The three R’s mastered helped her to gain independence as a floor assistant in a garments store but her heart craved to follow her passion.
The metal wheels started to slow down releasing energy. Her mind was racing. Sister Philomena was justified in comparing her toes to a hurricane.
Her ballerina toes pirouetted effortlessly and lit up the Dance Academy. Her passion was poetry in motion.
The weekend ritual was sacrosanct. She lived her life on these two days.
Written for : Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers
This week's photo prompt is provided by Louise with The Storyteller's Abode.
word count : 166