the last thing

The last thing she expected began unfolding during that journey. Countless times she would later look back and try to imagine the picture, try to fathom how the pieces came to play as they did. A woman just emerging from heartbreak, on the edge of resolution never ever again to let it go that far. A man looking for a seat on his way home after a long lunch with his oldest friend, resigned to romance being a thing of the distant past. He was aged 77, she 46. He sat down just as the train pulled away, then looked across and saw her, already sitting, listening to those songs, watching the scene from the window with her eyes seeming to hold all the sadness in the world.