Short Story Saturdays

Oh how busy today is!

I'm actually waiting for something so I decided to do a quick blog while I wait! Hopefully it won't affect my writing in anyway. I'm so anxious!


Orson Forman sat in the dining car sipping his whiskey. The train was oddly silent. If not for the rhythmic clacking of the tracks you wouldn't know it was moving. Night had come and everything was pitch black outside. The car was empty except for Orson. His fingers tapped on the table and next to him sat a newspaper whose headline read "WAR HAS COME!"

While it was true that war had broken out the terror of it hadn't reached home yet. Orson was on a train bound for the city where he would be meeting with his family and catching a flight out of the country.

Orson hadn't seen his family in a few years now. He moved to the country when he and his brother got into a fight. It was their father's funeral and William was talking about selling their fathers old farm.

"No one here uses it! Even Dad didn't use it!" He argued.

"It's still our farm! We shouldn't just sell it!" Orson had planned on using the farm himself one day when he finished college.

The brothers got into a fight and Orson left that night with a black eye and a few missing teeth. His brother walked away with less.

When he first got to the country he rented a cottage. He sent a letter back home and his mother wrote him every month. Sometimes she'd send care packages of cookies made by his little sister, Sylvia.

That was the only reason Orson regretting leaving. He was so close to his little sister. She would sometimes take the train out to visit. But it had been months he last heard from her. Longer still since he last saw her. She should be fully grown now.

Orson sipped his whiskey and folded the paper and took it with him. When they got to the new country he would buy them all something nice. Even William. He wasn't so bad after all.

Orson retired to his room where he slept the rest of the night. He awoke shortly before the train arrived in the city.

He stepped off the platform expecting to see his mother and sister waiting to greet him. Instead he was greeted by a couple of military officers.

"Are you Orson Forman?"

"Yes. What's going on?" Orson put down his bags and looked at the two officers faces. They remained stoic.

"There's been a draft."