11
I drove slowly through the train station parking lot. It was getting late, and the lot was deserted. I pulled around behind the ticket booth and parked a few rows back. Hopefully, any passersby would just think I'd missed my train home and leave the car alone.
I started to get out of the car. Somewhere in the dark, a bird cried out, and I jumped, whacking my head on the door jam.
"Ah!" I rubbed my head with my hand and felt dried mud flake off into my hair. "Gross," I said to myself. "I need a shower," I sighed heavily "a soft bed and some strong arms to carry me there." A happy thought filled me from the tips of my toes to the top of my bruised head. "Maybe Archer came back."
This put a spring in my step, and I crossed the parking lot, enjoying myself as I skipped my way between
