Old '95.
The two boys ran up the steep stairs of the pedestrian bridge that spanned the railway track. Once they were at the top, they stood and looked towards the south, from where most of the trains approached.
They looked at all the trains passing by underneath the bridge. There were diesel and electric engines, some were hauling passenger coaches, others hauled long trains of freight carriages. The freight trains hauled coal, cement, vehicles and other cargo. The boys stood and watched as the trains pulled in an out of the station, and marveled at the wonderful machines, but they were waiting for one special train.
It was neither a diesel nor electric engine, but an old steam locomotive. It number was 1895, and to the boys it was known as old '95. It hauled luxury carriages across the country, and the boys knew the train well. On the days she would pass this way, they would stand and await her arrival. Just like they were standing and waiting for it today.
They could hear the huff and puff, and see the plume of smoke in the distance, long before they actually spotted the train. But at last it came round the bend, still far away, steaming and puffing, and pulling its coaches along. It picked up speed as it approached the station, because it would not stop here. The whistle screamed as the train came closer, and then it sped with great power underneath the bridge. The coaches of the train flashed by under the boys, one by one.
The old steam locomotive pulled its train swiftly and surely along the track as it passed through the station. It maintained its speed and was swiftly moving away. The boys stood and watched as it disappeared behind the next bend in the distance. They were pleased at having seen it again today, and would be waiting for it to pass through this way again the following week.
The boys came down from the bridge, to where their parents were waiting for them in the car in the parking lot below. The old steam locomotive pulled its train swiftly through the plains towards the next town, with a rhythmical huff. The tracks lay glistening in the sun behind it.
The End.
JP Brown ' 13/05/2006.
