Perhaps subliminal

 

Long before I heard anything, I felt the vibration in the tracks.  It was going to be close.  Maybe too close.

I had to get across the bridge and with no time to think about it.  I just started running.  The odd thing was, as I ran I wasn’t thinking about the train speeding in my direction, for some reason the lyrics of a Marty Robin’s song started playing in my head.

“I saw the white puff of smoke from the rifle; I felt the bullet go deep in my chest.”

Why on earth would I think of that?  Maybe because it was the song about someone dying.  It did keep me from focusing on the amount I had left to run to get to the end of the bridge.  I was trying hard to pay attention to the cross beams.  I couldn’t afford to have my foot slip off or step into the gravel between them.  That would surely send me sprawling to the ground.

I could now see a sign, just off to the right of the bridge.  I was just about there.  The sign said, El Paso.