"So anyway that was what he said yesterday and she wouldn't agree with anything he was...."

The sound drifted away as he continued to stare straight across the carriage. It was the same every morning, she would complain about everything that happened the day before, all the way in on the train, and then again that evening, all the way home.

He, well, he would do the same as always every morning, stare straight ahead at the woman directly across from him. She was beautiful. Here light browne hair rested neatly on her shoulders as she read what seemed to be the same book everyday. He had tried to see the name but failed. She never looked at him, but every now and then she seemed to smile, a wonderful gentle smile, something in the story, he thought.

He watched her face carefully. he was comfortable as she never looked up. this time he noticed something. Her eyes, they weren't moving. She was just staring at the pages, not reading at all, and every now and then smile again.

Wait a minute, he thought. She wasn't reading. She knew he was watching her. Was that the same every morning?

"And then he gives out again..."

He glanced at the train map. Two stops. She gets off in two stops. Will he. Suddenly she stood up and moved to the door. He looked to his left at his partner still talking and stood up and followed to the train door.

"Bye dear," he said.