Love sits patiently in the waiting room, eyes scanning hurriedly for his name to be called. Outside, the rain falls heavier and the last train leaves the station.
You and I sit facing each other. The crowd around us suffocates the air. Our eyes see past each other into the distance, as if we’re wishing on a somebody to occupy the space next to us. Familiarity stands adjacent, unsure if we would offer some space.
As the last train leaves the station, a dolorous Love stands on a deserted platform, wondering what went wrong. And a tired Time packs to go home and turns the mic off, throwing away the passengers list, unaware of the name he missed calling out.
Two familiar souls, sit like two strangers and the kilometres in the journey become the measure of distance between hearts. And a lonesome Night tries to sleep to the distant and low rumbling of a train spelt Regret.