The man on the bridge

I met him on the footbridge as it was getting dark. He was wearing a tweed Crombie coat, and a grey bowler hat, and was carrying a briefcase. He spoke to me.
”Is there another train to town today?”
“I wouldn’t think so,” I answered.
“I have to get there you see, to lodge these papers. Ah, I see a plume of smoke coming this way. I’m in luck. I must get down to the platfom to hail the train.”
I watched him descend and disappear.
Minutes later a steam train with vintage carriages whistled under the bridge at speed, as if on a mission. In its wake a grey bowler hat blew down the track.

There is no platform.
Clachnaharry  station closed in 1913.
A fatality was recorded at the site of the former station in 1914.