End of the work day.

End of the work day.
I entrain the city-train. Yawning void. I find an empty seat, my luck is in.
The train is moving. Finally. I only wanna get home, it was a really hard week.
I look out of the window. It is raining. Oppressively drab and grey. My thoughts stray.
Then I see her. It is long time ago that we have met, spoken or written. Too long.
Now
she have seen me, too. Smiled und comes to me. My heart beats faster.
She asks: „May I sit down?“ „Sure!“
We talk to each other: about everything and anything – and still more.
I must get of the train, but she touches my arm and asks shy if we could go together whereto.
I look at her. Sink in her eyes. „Yes“. So we walk togehther and sit down in the hindmost corner of a bar.
It becomes late. Really late. It is all the same to me.It was a nice evening, a wonderful evening.
The bar is closing and we must leave. My place or yours?
She cherish me, comes close to me. Nearer. Very close. I can feel her, I can smell her. Now. Finally.
I awake with a start. She has gone.
I am still in the city-train and it’s still raining. Unfortunately.
I look up. An elder lady.
She asks: „May I sit down?“ „Sure.“
I must get off anyway.
End of the work day.