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Lucy watched the rows of terraced houses flash past, then a trading estate, then the back of a supermarket with a lorry reversing up to the warehouse door. Within a few minutes the roads and buildings gave way to open fields dotted with livestock. It was warm inside after the chilly wait and, in spite of the boisterous chatter of a group of young men at the other end, she was unable to resist the rhythmical rocking of the carriage.
She was jolted awake to find herself alone and she peered out at the dark. A guard came down the aisle with a rubbish bag and announced the name of the station. It was not familiar. Feeling sheepish she mumbled her thanks and gathered her bag then climbed down onto the deserted platform. A tall man in a hat was standing under the single lamppost by the exit, he seemed to be waiting.
"What a relief," he said. "I thought I'd missed you. Come on, the car is right outside."
(Final word for my flash fiction A to Z supplied surreptitiously by Monkey.)