It was early Friday afternoon, at Offren Train Station, a cheap gray cement toad that donned a large white roof of plexiglass. There weren't any redeeming qualities to the building, other than the fact that it was in close proximity to the ocean.
The station was flooded with tourists eager to get to the beach. Unfortunately, the people in charge of the station decided not to enlarge the station to accommodate the surge of tourists coming in each year, meaning that the place was even more cramped and sweaty than ever.
It took me a full hour to get through the mass of sweaty and sunburned bodies that hung out at whatever space they could fill. By the time I got to the waiting platform, I was half-deceased. But I calmed myself down, knowing that all I had to do now was wait for the train.
The scent of the warm afternoon sun shining down on the rail eased my nostrils, which was tired of smelling sweat. I sat down on one of the few benches that were available, and was tempted to take my phone out, before reminding myself that I could be mugged. I chose to watch the seagulls crowding around bits of crumbs instead.
I glanced around at every little detail in the train station and the people around me, like a bored student during a school lecture. I eventually concluded that the people leaving the city were either families or businessmen and women. Most people wore the same dull look that I had, and were also observing the people around the station. Nothing really caught their attention. Except for one man, sitting on the white floor and leaning against a pillar.
The man did not look strange. But his actions certainly were. He had a plate of fish and chips, most likely from one of the stores nearby. He wasn't eating it, though. He let the plate of food sit there. Seagulls started to come up to the man. I expected him to shoo them away. He didn't. Instead, he started throwing some pieces of his food onto the ground, attracting the attention of even more seagulls.
At first, I just thought that he wanted to feed some of the seagulls. But that idea was laid to rest when I saw that he was surrounded with about two dozen seagulls, squawking and fighting each other for food. It was quite noisy, like a bunch of self-centered teenagers at a shopping mall. The people were starting to get a tad bit annoyed at the large commotion. They shot looks that said, "Please shut up" at the man. The man paid no attention and continued to feed the most annoying birds on earth.
I continued to watch and wait for my train to arrive. I wanted to bring out my phone several times, but I remembered my concerns about being mugged and decided not to. Since I didn't have anything to do, I tried to think of different reasons why the man was feeding such a large hoard of seagulls. Perhaps he was simply bored. Perhaps he wanted some seagull friends because his spouse died. I searched around for an answer. I had to know, because it was the only thing of interest to me today.
After ten long minutes of brainstorming, a train pulled up into the station. It wasn't the train that I needed to take though. Around half of the people waiting stomped on.
The man looked at the train, his eyes lighting up. I didn't know why, but I felt like something bad was going to happen. He picked up the last piece of food from his paper plate and grinned smugly. The seagulls squawked louder. Some jumped up to the man's hand, trying to snatch it off. I watched closely, wondering what this man's move would be. He waited for a few more seconds. Then, he threw the piece of food into the open train door. A mass of white feathers and screeching jumped onto the train. It was like a scene from a kid's movie. I could even hear the choir music and see the event unfold in slow motion.
The people inside the train screamed as the doors closed, trapping them with the noisy birds. Me and many others looked at the man. He didn't say anything. He just smiled like an idiot and dashed off. Some people ran after the man, shouting profanity along the way. I didn't. I was too busy looking at the train, disappearing into the distance. I pitied the poor passengers. The train wouldn't stop for at least an hour.