The rain is relentless, a grey curtain blurring the edges of the city. He’s standing on a deserted platform, the wind whipping his hair across his face. The departure board flickers, displaying a string of cancellations and delays. She’s a few feet away, huddled under a flimsy umbrella, her shoulders shaking not just from the cold, but from a quiet, contained grief. They’re both staring at the tracks, the empty expanse reflecting the hollowness in their eyes. He reaches out, his hand hovering near hers, but doesn’t quite touch. The platform is silent save for the drumming rain and the distant, mournful wail of a train that isn’t coming. He pulls his coat tighter, a gesture of futile protection against the encroaching chill, and simply stands there, a steadfast silhouette against the fading light.