100 words x 365 days
The rails cried out with the approach of the train. Metal shook, the horn sounded, and the old willow trees blew softly in the wind. It was time to go. That lonely whistle blew louder with each mile. Even the station flashed that arrival was near. She waited, looking down the wooden pallets, the vibration sent trembles through her spine. Years apart, he was coming home to be with her again. Her heart pounding as the dilapidated old steel pulled into the station, her hands wrapped tight around the flowers that wilted from age as she once again waited to go home.