I married the woman whose husband jumped in front of the train.
He approached me; wide smile, lively eyes. His hand outstretched as if to shake with a friend.
A laminated business card.
“It has all my details on it”.
I took it.
He jumped onto the tracks as the 11:17 from Central screamed by.
His shoes never touched the ground.
She was younger, blonde and stick thin.
Never in shock, never surprised.
I wonder why he jumped.
I wonder why I’m about to now.