An amateur

Sharing a story. Found on a short story site. Interesting.

An Amateur

I got on at Champs-Elysees Clemenceau, as instructed. It was packed as usual, but with the wrong kind of people - tourists. They probably thought they were heading off for a day out at the Louvre - the stop after next, if I remember rightly. Numbers is numbers, I suppose. Still, I am careful to look only outwards into the tunnel; "remain detached" they had said. As I stepped off onto the platform at Concorde, a husky male voice called out to me in French; no doubt someone had spotted my left-behind briefcase. Fortunately the automatic doors slammed shut before he decided to take action. I was glad not to have understood; it made it easier somehow, to know that I wasn't one of them. I took the steps two at a time, pushed through the exit barrier and emerged on the surface, all the time counting down from thirty.

-Peter Cashmore