He found himself standing alone on a railroad platform in Auckland New Zealand, holding a note from his ex-wife in one hand and a red soft-sided briefcase in the other.
From his vantage point he could see the pedestrian footbridge that he had crossed over to get to the platform from the shopping center. He glanced once more at the note in his hand, and then up at the train schedule posted above the metal bench where he had set his luggage. If this train was anything like all the other trains he had waited on, it would be at least five minutes late.
With that potential delay in mind he reached into the right side pocket of his jacket and pulled out the pack of cigarettes he had bought at the convenience shop near the car park by the shopping center. It had been decades since he had last had a cigarette, but considering his circumstances, worrying about the long-term effects cigarettes might have on his health was an extremely low priority.
His death sentence had already been handed down, and with the ease of mind that those who already consider themselves dead know, he placed the cancer stick to his lips and lit it with a cheap disposable lighter.The first drag instantly took him back to the halcyon days of his youth, when the thought of living forever was real, tangible. He laughed inwardly as he recalled those thoughts...inwardly and ruefully.
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