My three words to work with are: waiting, bag, figure
I looked out through the waiting room window at the rain streaming down the other side of the glass. I must have looked a sorry character, sodden, shivering. The platform was deserted and the usual view of field and rugby posts the other side of the line was indistinguishable through the curtain of water pouring from the skies. I fumbled in my pockets hoping for a dry tissue to wipe my face and neck, my mobile phone skittering across the stone floor in three pieces.
“Just my luck!” I mumbled, scooping the battery from the puddle of water that had pooled around another passengers umbrella. You might have shook it out! I cursed inside my head, thankful the words hadn’t made their way to my mouth. Sitting down with a thwump and a squelch to dry and reassemble my phone, I looked across at the other passengers. The woman with the umbrella was still clutching her bag where she’d grasped it close to her ribs the moment I’d approached. Ok, I’d moved a bit sudden. She was still looking quite anxious and avoiding my direct gaze.
“Figure we’ll be here a while, m’lad!” a voice growled from a corner. “Best get y’self sorted and settled.” I’d not noticed the old man until he spoke…