The platform was bleak, open at all angles except for the tiny shelter that consisted of a single wall, two small side walls and a half yard overhang to given only minimal protection from the slightest of rain showers. The plan was for the shelter to give some protection from windy days but tonight it was snowing heavily, and the temperature was only just above freezing, and the wind was beginning to howl which whipped up the snow that had managed to settle on the platform.

On the platform were five people, all waiting for the last train of the evening the last chance to get from the small town back to civilization.

Dean had been the first to arrive on the platform and stood with his back to the shelter wall hoping to get some refuge. The next to arrive was a man, of about similar age to Dean, he also stood with his back to the shelter wall and being in such close contact, Dean felt he had to speak to the man, 'crap night tonight'.

The man looked through his hooded coat, 'they say we'll have this snow for the next few days'.

Dean had heard similar but didn't want to sound like a know it all and replied, 'Jesus it's been like this for only a few hours and already it's nearly covering the train tracks'.

As he spoke, he pointed down to the track bed below.

As their conversation started to die a figure could be seen trying to pull a suitcase through the snow which had started to fall even heavier. It was a woman who joined the two men against the shelter. She smiled at the two men as she pushed herself as far back to get as much cover as she could.

A few seconds later a younger girl, probably in her early twenties, Dean thought, joined them. She was dressed in only a short jacket and knee length black skirt. As she walked to the shelter, Dean and the man that arrived just after himself moved closer together, the second man saying to the recently arrived girl, 'here let me move up, see if you can get a bit of shelter in here'.

The young woman smiled and thanked him.

The four were stood only a few feet apart when the speaker above them burst into life. An automated message announced that the next train on Platform One was delayed eight minutes due to adverse weather.

The group of people gathered shifted uncomfortable and finally it was Dean that spoke first.

'That's a pain but I suppose it had to be expected'.

The older of the two women who was thirty-seven years of age spoke as she shrugged her shoulders, 'I suppose you're right but tonight it would have been nice if it had been on time'.

Dean nodded, 'I know what you mean, it vicious out tonight'.

The other man added, 'I guess we are lucky to get a train at all, down south they have it a bit harder and most public transport has been stopped'.

The woman looked at him, 'don't say that I need to get home tonight and can't wait to get inside and get warm'.

They all agreed with her, and they took it in turns to look down the track each hoping they would see a light in the distance that would indicate the train was coming.

Dean looked at his watch and said, 'if it's eight minutes then it should be coming soon'.

The younger of the women spoke for the first time, her face looked cold as the snow seem to batter against it, 'I hope so, it really is freezing'.

Their brief comments were broken by the sound of the gate to the platform opening and then banging shut. They all looked and at the same time saw a man running up the platform. As he reached them, he looked at the small group all huddled under the tiny shelter, 'I thought I'd missed it, thank goodness'.