As she sat waiting for the intercity train, playing with her golden blonde hair, her mind raced with thoughts: “why did he have to do it today – why me – what about all of the beautiful moments – how could he be so heartless – I need him most right now!” As she sobbed relentlessly, bystanders glanced her way, feeling uneasy at her exposure of gloom. Her sunglasses covered her eyes but did not disguise the stream of tears pouring down her glistening cheeks. No one offered a tissue, no one even asked what was paining her; people chose to ignore rather than respond.
Just when she managed to pace a steady rhythm of breath, a man came up from the underground passage and lit up a cigarette. She quickly wiped her tears and with forced composure asked for a spare smoke, her almond skin glistening from the station lights. Agreeably, the man approached her bench with a charming smile and began to search through his backpack, all the while entertaining her with casual jokes.
As she laughed, it began to dawn on her; she was now free to talk to any man she wished and no longer had to adhere to the unwritten but constricting rules of her, what now was, ex-relationship.
The two newly found companions boarded the train, giggling as they exchanged fresh glances and gestures. How? Brought together by a cigarette and the rest is history. With every experience that draws to conclusion, a new adventure begins to surface.
This account was written based on real observation.