Tresco Beach Scene

imageOil on canvas, 20×24″

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Cutting it fine

Mark started to run. He had just realised that it was Sunday and that the train left five minutes before it’s usual time. It would be a disaster if he missed it. His wife would never forgive him for missing her birthday party. Why, suddenly, were there so many people pulling large suitcases, causing him to hesitate every few steps? He glanced up at the station clock and saw that he had only two minutes to reach the train. He was sweating with the physical and mental effort. With horror he saw that there had been a change of platform and it was even further away than was normal. Of course it was all his fault as he had no real need to stop to buy that book; it could have waited until tomorrow. The platform came in sight but where was the ticket he must present at the barrier? Why oh why was everything going wrong. He searched every pocket and found it in the very last one. The barrier opened just as the guard blew his whistle. He increased his pace and pushed into the first carriage just as the doors were closing. He had made it, but the cost was great as he sank exhausted into the only free seat.