She told herself it was OK. What she was doing was OK.
The letter had thrilled her, but was unspecific; advising only his return sometime in March.
She took a room at Dixon’s farm in exchange for cooking, cleaning, and laundry. She told Ms Dixon that she was waiting.
The front window offered a view of the station. Whenever a train arrived she watched from that window.
There were three trains a day.
On March 19th, she watched him step down to the platform from the 3:15.
She was off, like a light and,
they collided on the dusty path.