Young Writers

The Station
Madeleine Bendixen

“One morning, in the pale early winter, a man enters the train station. He moves in a strange pattern — all hands and knees and torso — as if he has been fashioned from bits of crude material, lumped together in an awkward design. His body is compelling. It glides and gyrates in obscene directions with such ferocious resistance from his bones it is surprising he should function at all. And yet he walks …”