The Odd Couple: Euston Station 27th February 2006 21.07
I knew I shouldn't look but my eyes kept being drawn back. I would look up to the great electronic notice board telling me my train was being prepared and then down again, and they would still be there, the odd couple, acting out their courtship like a pair of migratory birds, and so I invented tales of how they met and where they were going, how long they would be together, and how they would part. Because, I decided, this liaison was too intense to last. She would be the one to tire. Maybe she would look at him one day lying next to her in bed and realise that it had to end - all his wit, his wealth, his wisdom could not make up for the way his skin slopped from him as he slept and the way the white hair erupted from every vesicle of skin, and the way he snored and muttered of old times in his sleep. She would rise silently then and pack her bag. It was half packed already because she was a woman who couldn't settle. She would grab the two handles and walk away, leaving her trench coat next to his on the hooks by the door - even though she had tried her best again it seemed that she just would never find a place to fit.