Notes in the Cell Phone 7

At that moment, I had no idea that I would never see her again. I wanted to reach out. I wanted to speak. Maybe saying something would have prevented it. Maybe I could have gone with her. But as I sat, petrified with hesitation, apprehension, indecision, the subway bells chimed, and the safety stickers on the closing glass doors obstructed her from my view. The moment was over. She was gone. My chance disappeared, along with any possibility of preventing what was about to happen. I stood up from my seat, and saw in the front-facing window the headlights of the oncoming train. The image of the pending collision flashed through my mind. The horns honked in futile desperation. Instinctively, I braced myself. But it was no use. I guess I won’t be seeing her after all.

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