She had arrived. Standing in the doorway, elegant as usual, she greeted me with the side of her cheek.
She talked of her train ride last evening and how patiently she had waited at the station. All I could think of was how the moonlight must have looked on her, glorifying this beautiful creature. I asked if she ever worried about traveling alone and she told me, "No". And in that one word I saw the appreciative glances she had gotten from every man and woman on that train.
But I knew, Simone being Simone, that she had ignored them, and stayed intent on watching her own reflection in the dark glass as she sped to see me.