She was on the phone, her face had become quiet. “Yes, of course I want to but I can’t. I’m broke.” I watched her trying to hold back tears. �...�Yeah, sure, I’ll call you if by some miracle I have the money to meet you in London. I’m sorry Jude.” There was no goodbye. I loved her messy hair, and the black under her tired eyes. She stood on the platform waiting for the train to take her from Barcelona to Madrid. “Excuse me, do you know when the next train is arriving?” A handsome stranger with ash. Chris watched her as she watched him approach. As he started to come close, she put her book aside, and put her hands on the ground, as if to get up. It was a sign he'd been watching for, and he slowed and turned a little to her side, as if he was going to walk straight past her; odd how the skill of herding cattle was coming in so handy here. She didn't relax, but she didn't stand either. When he was nearly close enough, he turned back to her and quickly sat down, as close as he could without. More

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