He walked slowly around the metal rail before giving it a soft kick. Death had come for him again but he had cheated it. Still, it was a harrowing reminder that he was merely human- if only a very lucky one. The day before, he and some friends had decided to check out a long abandoned train station. Trains themselves continued to run through the area, but never stopped, having no one to pick up. The most reckless of all of them, Darren had climbed and swung his way up into the beams that still ran over the tracks. Stupidity or a need to stare death in the face again, he wasn’t sure, but he began to hop beam to beam just as a train came into his sights.
Later, his friends would say that they’d screamed at him to get down- that it wasn’t funny anymore, that he needed to get out of the way. He’d laughed at them. Asked what could possibly happen? That was when the beam he stood upon gave way to age and weight, falling 20 feet with Darren flailing desperately in the air as the train began to honk wildly. He landed hard on the tracks, cutting his leg on a jagged rock. Stunned, he’d only been able to stare at the oncoming train when suddenly, hands began grabbing at his shirt, his arms, his hair, dragging him off the tracks. Mere seconds more and he’d have been dead.
Another kick to the beam, shoving his hands deep into his pockets, he began a long, slow limp home.