Dream Train

My lungs burn as sound of my new high heels echoes loudly down the train station platform. I was neva one much for running, but boy was I running now. If there was eva something worth running for it was this train. I simply can not miss this train. I just simply can not miss this train! If I eva wanna hold some hope for lettin’ my voice be heard in some speakeasy in Chicago, I simply hafta catch this train and then I’ll be the bee’s knees! The cat’s meow. Yes I will.
But even as I race down the loading station with my bag clutched tightly in one hand, I can see my dreams disappearing down the tracks with the my train, leaving behind a newly heart broken flapper behind in its wake. My sore and tired feet begin to slow and my lungs heave, compressed by the small beaded dress I had saved my allowance up for. Patting a hand up against my newly bobbed hair, a single tear trails down my face.
“Excuse me, is something wrong, Miss?” A man warily asks me. I can tell he doesn't know what to make of me, I look nothin’ like the young Southern Belle mama and pappa raised me to be.
Heaving a great sigh, I fling my arm out to motion to the leaving train. “Yeah...my dreams just left on that train without me.”