Severe Delays

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My friend and I are stood on the station platform, waiting.

She is waiting on The Banker, with whom she shared a passion-filled couple of hours last Friday.  Snow White over here is awaiting the verdict on Saturday night’s first date.  It’s been forty-eight hours of radio silence.  Another twelve and I’ll be eyeing up the rails.

‘Maybe he’s busy?’ she says.

‘You know what I think of that: if you’re having to make excuses for a guy, it’s no go.’

‘But at least you’re the one making the excuses, not him.’


I haven’t been awake long.  Less Snow White; more Grumpy, Sleepy and Dopey.

‘He isn’t making excuses.’

‘No,’ I say, ‘he isn’t doing anything!’

The train comes.  As we board, I turn to my friend:

‘Maybe he is busy.’

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