Mind the Gap
by Hilary Robertshaw
In the space between trains it is as if no one else exists. My world is you, your arms, your body pressed so closely against mine. You whisper words in my ear that I never thought I’d hear, you love me, adore me, want me and all the while I long for you to kiss me to make the words true.
You pull away to look into my face, your eyes imploring.
“I believe you,” I say remembering the perfection of the day but knowing what is coming next.
Your fingers brush my face. “I have to go.”
“I mean every word.”
“So don’t leave me.”
“You know I have to. We’ll have more time soon.”
The real world is back. Hundreds of people rushing passed; tube trains
screeching into the platforms: announcers calling out destinations and safety warnings.
I have to look away to hide what I’m really thinking.
“You ok?” Concern in your voice.
You make me look at you then kiss me hard, your hands in my hair.
“I must go, I’ll be missed.”
I clutch at your jacket but you shake me loose, then turn away and almost run towards the escalator. Climbing higher, the gap between us widens until you disappear into the crowd.
I raise my hand in a sad salute, and smile bravely at the floor.