The Escalator

December, 1973

I've just put Maria on the express train for Bremerhaven. I don't dare linger on the station platform to watch her departure. Neither Maria nor I likes to leave the other behind this way--it is almost like making a sacrifice to some minor god of punctual railway timetables. We embraced quietly and parted company, as if only until tomorrow.Now I'm striding across the waiting room. I bump into somebody and apologize--too late; he's gone. I reach into an inside pocket and coax a single cigarette ou...