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He never noticed but then, he had stopped noticing her ages before. He had also left her, with no apparent effort, as easily as discarding worn out clothes. He had gone on with his life, there were plenty of things he enjoyed doing, he pursued his interests with a passion that few showed in their own lives.She had stayed behind, at some point of his life that seemed to matter less and less to him as time went by and he moved on. She belonged to a time lost in shadows, a time she had cherished, a time where none of them existed any longer, the lands of memory and deliverance.She followed him everywhere, free to do so at last. He was alone, aloof at times and friendly at others, with that smile that held the warning of a mean streak, a cruelty always at odds with his easy-going ways. And yet, he did not lack offers, he never was short of them. Women and also men liked him, loved him, pursued him.They never imagined he loved fiercely for a short time, he lived for the satisfaction of. He walked briskly back to the hotel hoping that "The Dancer" was already dressed and ready to start out.He handed her the back-pack that he had picked up at the station check room and she quickly opened it to extract some lipstick to put on her wind-chapped lips. He hoped she wasn't stupid enough to have any weapons or drugs hidden inside. They went down the stairs and out the side entrance so the desk clerk would not ask any unwelcome questions.Nickolai was just pulling up in the Chevrolet Suburban and they jumped inside and were almost to the bridge before anyone said a single word."Harry, I don't park next to platform. Better I park one block over and you walk to platform. I be right, yes?"Harry looked at the vacant-eyed girl who was staring off into the distance utterly bored with everything around her."Good thinking, Nickolai, here is something to buy that pretty wife of yours a new dress."Harry passed him an envelope crammed with money stuffed inside. It was not as much as they.
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