The Blank Book
Place: Grand Central Station
The lunch hour commuting crowd has thinned out a bit, not that you could tell in a place that is always chaotic in some way. A bored teenager sits with her back against the wall, trying to block out the noise with her iPod as she waits for the next train. Suddenly the music stops – and right before the end of the song, too. Lovely, now that note will be stuck in my head for the rest of the day. And I can’t even charge this thing until I get to Grandma’s. That’s what, 13 hours from now?
She digs around in her backpack for a minute, then gives up. Looking around for some other distraction – This book has to last me until the next stop at least, and I really don’t want to break out the sequel until there’s no other option – she sees a leather-covered volume sitting on an unoccupied bench two seats to her left.
I wonder if that’s someone’s journal? Not exactly the most brilliant thing to go leaving in a train station. Skimming through an abandoned magazine, she keeps an eye on the book, checking every few minutes to see if someone claims it. Finally her curiosity becomes too much, and she moves over to the bench holding the book. Maybe someone’s name or something is inside the cover…..
(Word Count: 233)