I browsed down at my follow we had about 2 hours before the train came. The wind blew staight threw my clubbing clothes. As far as I can rember that is the time I felt the most old and pitiful.

Thsi is when I first saw her! She climbed out of the waiting room with the last of her enegry. Her faded pink sweatpants has seen better days , and her feet are buried into city stained slippers. If I had not known betterI could have swared she was a ghost.. They are eyes dazed with the work it takes to stay warm, and weary of the excess of privileged people.. If I had not known betterI could have swared she was a ghost.. I looked at her bent up body and thinking she reeks of survival ; that I'm too cold to move , and all I have to worry about is killing time before I go back to my ovely soft warm bed..

Out comes her decrept, shaking hand.

We look through our pockets but find nothing but reciepts.

The darkeness of the city swallows her descending, sorry shadow.

Ligh up another cigrette. I feel myself trying to slip into a slumber, but the stone cold floor drags me back.. I stare for a while envoisuly at the couple takig up the only bench.

Then out of nowhere she returns.. Her decrepid hand, tired of begging, had come back.

Unexpectectetly she dropped a grubby pound coin into my hand and said, " get something warm in ya. Merry Christmas."

The city swalllowed her up again without a word I quitely thnaked her .

I surfed down at my mobile we had over two hours to go. All my body was covered in goose bumps. As far as I can rember that is the time I felt the most wretched and woeful.

Then she appeared! She shuffles across the plateform with the final of her will-power. Her pink sweatpants are patch ups , and her feet are cramed into city stained pilsoles. Her hair was so wispy it remined me of the damiblions we used to blow when we were children.. Her large coat seemed to be full of all of her worldly possions.. She cleared areas of the station just by walking through them. I'm looking at her darken visiage and thinking she reeks of survival ; that I am so wweak to be feeling this way , and all I'm upto is waiting for the train to start up again.

She put out her shaking, trembling mit.

I looked in my purse but their is no change.

As she moved away the staton seemed to eats up her descending, sad shadow.

I search in my pocket for my lighter. I feel myself trying to slip into a slumber, but the stone cold floor drags me back.. Eveythign seems to be in slow motion, the world seems to be waiting.

Then out of nowhere she returns.. A wrinkled hand, tired of beseeching, had done the whole rounds.

She placed a shinny pound coin Inot my lap and said, " get yourself a cup of tea. Merry Christmas."

As I analyze the relexion of my lover's experssion, out grazes meet, suddenly I am so proud of my life.

I peered down at my keep an eye on we had over two hours left. The wind blew staight threw my clubbing clothes. I cen't hink if i have ever felt woeful and wretched.

Their she was! She shuffles up the steps with the last of her will-power. Her red sweatpants are almost worn through , and her feet are wedged into city stained bunny slippers. On her face you could see the lines that had been worn out by tears.. One of her eyes seemed to have leak and it was clear that she was nearly blind.. Her eyes look like they've seen so much sadness they're forever doomed to apathy.. I looked at her darken visiage and imagine all the thinking she must have been through ; that I am to frozen to move , and I am just is killing time before I go back to my ovely soft warm bed..

She produced her wrinkled, trembling hand.

We look through our pockets and find nothing at all.

The overbearing statoin absorbed her tortured, pitiful frame.

I sign and look around the station for some lkind of amusement. I start to even the sleeping beggar at least they feel at home.. We are pushing reluctant time forward as it digs its heels in at the dusty smells and sounds of old stories, at the sucking of smoke, at our involuntary shivers.

Then suddley the beggar tlady reappears.. Her wrinkled hand, tremberling with old age, had come back.

She carefully placed a pund fifty into my hand and says, " get something warm in ya. God bless you."

As I analyze the mirror image of my husband's face, we look into each others eyes, suddenly I am so proud of my life.