Short story from three words

Actual tested output. The notes used for this result are an example, not a real event. This box is not copied. Replace the notes above with your own before you paste the prompt.

The Dry Side of the Platform

Anika came to the station with the **letter** folded small in her hand. She had written it at the kitchen table and then stopped, because another sentence would have turned it into a speech. Her father was leaving on the evening **train**. She wanted one plain thing: to put the page in his hand and see him read the first line.

Rain had begun on the walk over. It tapped the tin roof above the platform and lifted a smell of wet dust from the concrete. A kettle hissed at the tea stall. She had taken his old **umbrella** from the stand by the door. He had left it there months ago, after a short visit that ended in polite goodbyes. The ribs creaked when she tested it, so she closed it again. Under the roof she did not need it open. She held it because it gave her a reason to stand still.

The speaker announced the time. The train was on time. Anika chose the middle of the platform, where he liked to step down. She kept her first sentence small. I kept a chair ready. Nothing more.

Light slid along the rails, and the train arrived in a slow wash of yellow windows. Doors opened. People stepped out with bags and tired faces. She looked for his grey cap and for the careful way he put one foot down. Coach after coach emptied. A boy ran to a woman in a red scarf. A conductor looked along the platform and raised his whistle.

She walked the length of the train, then walked it again. When the doors shut, the sound was small, like a latch in the next room. Anika stayed until the last coach bent away. Rain reached the open end of the platform. She opened the umbrella. Water ran off the faded cloth in thin lines. Her fingers, hunting a better grip on the strap, met a slip of paper tied there with string.

She knew the writing before the sentence ended. He had come to the house that morning. The gate was locked and the windows were dark. He had not knocked a second time. He had left the umbrella where she would take it, and the note where her hand would close. Do not stand in the rain for me, it read. I will write when I arrive. The train was easier than a doorway today.

Anika looked down the empty track. The letter she had brought was still in her fist. The umbrella stayed steady over her head. She had missed him by a morning. He had missed her by a locked gate. Neither of them had the heart to call the other back.

100-word version
Anika brought a letter to the station and her father's old umbrella. He was due on the evening train, and she wanted to put the page in his hand. Rain tapped the roof. The train came and emptied, and he was not on it. She opened the umbrella as it left. A note was tied to the strap. He had already come to the house, found the gate locked, and left the umbrella so she would not wait in the rain. Her letter stayed ungiven. They had missed each other by one closed door.

Alternative ending
She still does not open the note. She boards the next train with the letter in her pocket and the umbrella closed at her feet, deciding the page should be handed over, not found. The story ends as the carriage starts to move, with both the letter and the question of whether he will be at the other end.