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