Twin Flames Meet Again by Adam Rutter

I stood on the station concourse at St Pancras International, waiting for the 9:02 to arrive. Standing a few metres from me was the John Betjeman statue looking up at the lofty, glass arch roof, while holding onto his hat. Looking across platform one, I saw an attractive woman sitting on a wheeled suitcase. She was probably 20, long shiny black hair, tanned skin. I felt tempted to go and chat her up. But my legs. I couldn’t move them. My feet were anchored to the ground. I felt my heart banging against my chest like a pair of fists. My eyes were fixed on this girl. I did not notice anyone else. The arrival of Eurostar snapped me out of my gaze. The girl stepped on-board. She was on the same train as me, sitting by the window, on the other side of the gangway. We exchanged smiles. It was a good opportunity to break the ice. It was now, or never. We said ‘hi’ to one and other, and so we got chatting. The station slid by as the Eurostar was leaving. The glass roof rolled away, and the sun dazzled through the windows. As we continued chatting, I was building rapport with her. The Eurostar whizzed past fields and trees, shooting into the Channel Tunnel. The air pressure dropped inside the carriage, making my conversation with the girl increasingly difficult. I tried not to keep saying ‘pardon’. At least, not too often. It was the perfect time to introduce ourselves. 

‘My name is Dan. What’s yours’, I asked. 

‘Shahimer’, she said. 

‘Where you’re from?’

‘London.’

‘Whereabouts?’

‘Richmond.’

Shahimer live in a different area. I lived in Greenwich. Our conversation was progressing nicely. We talked until the journey ended. The Eurostar terminated at Brussels, which is where we parted company. I performed at a gig while I was there. I did more gigs in other places, in the continent: Zurich, Vienna, Milan. During my tour, we video linked on WhatsApp. It had been five days since I met Shahimer, and I was already missing her. I didn’t know if I was going to see her again. I had my doubts. I wanted to meet her one more time. I wasn’t going to give up that easily. After I had finished touring, I returned to London. Me and Shahimer managed to squeeze in a date. We met at the rendezvous where I first saw her. Shahimer waited on the station platform, watching the Eurostar cruise along the railway terminus, slowing to a stop. The moment I stepped off the train, she flung her arms around me.