Veronicas is standing on a quiet underground platform

Waiting for a train

The platform is crescent shaped and she is alone

Apart from a drunken sailor

Who is waving at a rum poster

On the wall opposite

 

This is the evening of the

World Cup

Semi-Final

Between

England and Spain

Men have ceased to exist

This vacancy pleases her

 

The sailor approaches

I have been waving at that rum girl but she does not wave back

That is because you have been waving at a poster

Posters are not known for their emotions

Why is everything red?

What are the scores?

I should be on my ship

On the way to the Azores

 

Veronicas hears a distant rumble

The train is near

It bursts into the station

With the driver leaning out his cab window

England have just scored it is now 2-1 with only six minutes to go

He shouts above the noise of the braking train

The drunken sailor stumbles into the nearest carriage

But Veronicas does not move

As she lives on this platform

And has done so for many years

She is no ghost but finds it increasingly difficult to leave the station

And has accepted that this is a common hazard

In circular stations positioned underground