English Assignment Short Story Beginning with the line: He looked at his watch. Twelve-thirty already!

Now what should he do? Should he take the easy way out and board the train?

He looked at his watch. Twelve-thirty already! Now what should he do? Should he take the easy way out and board the train? It was bound to the same destination as him anyway. He turned his head to either side surreptiously nothing. The station was as empty as before. One black cat stole over the low roof its tiny paws making a rhythmic tap-tap over the asbestos sheet. The sky was overcast, hung with black and grey clouds. Unlike the city they did not reflect the gaslights and those new electric bulbs. He smiled to himself. The train hooted once, then twice. It was about to leave; the white, cloudy steam billowing out through the top of the engine. Snapping his heels, he turned around. He couldnt wait forever, could he? He had places to be, things to do. Besides, he didnt even know what he was waiting for in the first place. Be there at three quarters past eleven. Theyd told him. He snorted as he closed the door to his compartment, these government agents never understood the value of time, did they? Dont move., he felt the cold of steel against the back of his neck. Mentally cursing, he whipped around just one time he thinks hes safe theres someone right behind him willing to send him to the Pearly Gates. As fast as lightning, he whipped out his revolver and jammed it against his attackers side. The person let out a startled yelp. A yelp that sounded oddly too thin and too high. Holding his gun tightly against the persons side, he tore off the hat. It fell to the floor. The adversary made a futile attempt to reach it; the gun was lazily withdrawn when the attacker looked up. It was a girl. It was Georgina. At the startled and oddly horrified look on his face she smiled the smile he had once found the most beautiful and the warmest the smile that could rival a thousand suns and then a thousand more. In fact, he still did. Dropping the silvery blade, she glided toward him in that perfect mixture of stealth, sinew and grace and collapsed against his chest, Thank goodness you are safe, darling! she murmured breathlessly. His gaze softened and he ran a hand over her mesmerizing, black hair. They kissed . . . Early next morning as the ticket collector came on his round he chanced upon an unlocked door, from behind which came no answer to his repeated knocking. Impatience rife in his actions he pushed it open. A man lay sprawled on the floor, a neat cut across his jugular and a peaceful, content look on his face. A revolver lay on one side and a clean bullet hole marked his chest, the blood making his black clothes even blacker. Apart from the dead body and revolver nothing else was found inside the compartment or on the bed. But on the glass window, a white sheet of paper fluttered lazily in the passing breeze. It was taped from the outside Shes coming. Dont leave your position. Shes coming and she is not who you think she is. Report back as soon as you see this. It was unsigned but had a timestamp Twelve-thirty.

Neerja Bakshi 2011