We All Know It Was Too Late | Story

'We All Know It Was Too Late'.

We All Know It Was Too Late

The four of us were inseparable. At college, we were known as the ‘fearsome foursome’. As long as we stuck together we knew we were safe from outside threats. We never made any decisions without consulting one another and were always there in any one of the group’s hours of need. In short; we trusted one another implicitly. 

Then, during our university days, one of us got a job offer from abroad, which was too good to turn down. Even though it would mean the breaking up of the foursome, Tina, Tammy, and I urged Sara to prepare herself for the interview which could make her the Editor-in-chief of a popular Interior Designing Magazine. 

At the interview, Sara was expected to display a folder containing samples of her designs 

She had painstakingly (with our help) spent a week in compiling it. 

When the 'great day came’ we all met at 8.00 am at the local train station. The interview was to be held in the heart of the city at a posh location and it would take an hour by train to get there. 

We had decided that we would accompany Sara, and give her as much moral support as we possibly could. After all; this was sure to be a nerve-wracking experience for her. We knew that fear is at its most intense when one is anticipating an event. The least we could do was to accompany her to the interview and help to calm her nerves. 

At last, the train stopped at its destination, ’Green Town’. 

Sara was carrying a brown leather bag that contained her precious file. We walked down the platform joking and laughing merrily, giving Sara some last-minute tips for the interview. She listened carefully and we knew that she would take our advice seriously. 

We were just midway down the platform when we saw Sara lurch forward, stumble and fall to the ground. She let out a cry of pain. Then we saw two curly-haired youths running at full speed ahead of us. They jumped onto the train which was traveling in the opposite direction. As the automatic doors slammed together the last thing we saw was one of the youths standing adjacent to the glass doors. He was holding Sara’s brown bag with a gleeful expression on his wicked face. He thought that the bag contained something priceless, which he could later sell; or perhaps jewelry and cash. 

While helping Sara to her feet we all looked on helplessly as the train faded away; taking Sara’s file along with it. 

There were now only twenty minutes left till the interview. Poor Sara her face was bruised and she was limping - so hard - had that evil boy shoved her. She had no file and tears were pouring in torrents, down her face. We stood there in utter helplessness, powerless to do anything. Then: We all agreed it was too late to do anything about it. 

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