The Notebook

The final train would leave at six. After that, Platform Nine would become a car park. Sal had cleaned it for thirty years. Beneath a bench, he found a notebook filled with drawings of passengers: the woman with yellow boots, the sleeping violinist, himself with his broom. The last page showed an empty platform beneath the words, "I never knew how to say goodbye." Sal checked the clock. There were forty minutes before departure, and the artist had forgotten to sign a name.