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Description
Here's where our story begins: the 2:40 to London has just arrived, and Lisa Burnhorn has just boarded it. She hands the conductor her ticket, and quickly finds a seat in the back. A guy next to her, Jerry Smethport, smiles and says hello.
"You don't ride trains much, do you?" he asks.
"No, not since my grandmother died in a train wreck." His face gets distraught and says, "I'm sorry." An awkward silence passes slowly, until he strikes up the conversation again.
"Ever been out of the country?"
"No. I've been too afraid to travel abroad."
He chuckles. "Why?"
"Because, I don't know. Can you please leave me alone?"
He sighs, and picks back up. "I don't understand. How can a pretty girl like you not like to make friends?" She almost blushed, and then dusted it off as a glancing remark.
"Obviously, I don't know you. My mother told me not to talk to strangers, and I've stuck by it ever since."
"So you're saying you'll never open up to me? You could tell me all of your secrets right now, and nobody would ever find out. Chances are, we'll never meet again."
"It's a small world."
"London's bigger than you think."
She smiles at him, and says, "Fine, tell me your name, and I'll tell you mine."
"The name's Fred." He reaches his hand out to her's.
"Lisa." She takes his hand, and retreats shyly.
"So, Lisa," he says, "why are you going to London?"
"If you must know," she looks around and says quietly, "to study the people."
"The people?"
She takes out a sketchbook from her black leather bag, to show him her sketches.
"Impressive," he says. "It just so happens, I have a friend who runs an art gallery in London. Maybe you would like to get featured for a while?"
She blushes again. She's a pile of red beneath auburn hair now. "I'd like that very much, thank you."
"Not a problem." He hands her a slip of paper containing his own address, and phone number.
"So his name's Jerry? I kind of like that name." Now he's a pile of red beneath auburn hair.
"He's a good friend of mine." The train makes a dinging noise, signaling a stop.
"This isn't London is it?" she asks.
"No. Very close." He was lying, but he didn't want to break his cover in front of his love-at-first sight woman. He'd take a cab the rest of the way. "But it's my stop anyways. Nice talking to you, Lisa. I'm sure I'll see you again somewhere. As you said, it's a small world."
"But as you said, London's a bigger place than I think."
He laughed, and gathered up his bags. "Right, right." There he went, the only one off of the train.
She looked back at him from the silver streamlined machinery, wondering if the world was really all that small.
He looked up at her in the silver streamlined machinery, wondering if she'd ever come to see him like he'd hoped. Then the auburn beauty disappeared to both of them.

Description
Here's where our story begins: the 2:40 to London has just arrived, and Lisa Burnhorn has just boarded it. She hands the conductor her ticket, and quickly finds a seat in the back. A guy next to her, Jerry Smethport, smiles and says hello.
"You don't ride trains much, do you?" he asks.
"No, not since my grandmother died in a train wreck." His face gets distraught and says, "I'm sorry." An awkward silence passes slowly, until he strikes up the conversation again.
"Ever been out of the country?"
"No. I've been too afraid to travel abroad."
He chuckles. "Why?"
"Because, I don't know. Can you please leave me alone?"
He sighs, and picks back up. "I don't understand. How can a pretty girl like you not like to make friends?" She almost blushed, and then dusted it off as a glancing remark.
"Obviously, I don't know you. My mother told me not to talk to strangers, and I've stuck by it ever since."
"So you're saying you'll never open up to me? You could tell me all of your secrets right now, and nobody would ever find out. Chances are, we'll never meet again."
"It's a small world."
"London's bigger than you think."
She smiles at him, and says, "Fine, tell me your name, and I'll tell you mine."
"The name's Fred." He reaches his hand out to her's.
"Lisa." She takes his hand, and retreats shyly.
"So, Lisa," he says, "why are you going to London?"
"If you must know," she looks around and says quietly, "to study the people."
"The people?"
She takes out a sketchbook from her black leather bag, to show him her sketches.
"Impressive," he says. "It just so happens, I have a friend who runs an art gallery in London. Maybe you would like to get featured for a while?"
She blushes again. She's a pile of red beneath auburn hair now. "I'd like that very much, thank you."
"Not a problem." He hands her a slip of paper containing his own address, and phone number.
"So his name's Jerry? I kind of like that name." Now he's a pile of red beneath auburn hair.
"He's a good friend of mine." The train makes a dinging noise, signaling a stop.
"This isn't London is it?" she asks.
"No. Very close." He was lying, but he didn't want to break his cover in front of his love-at-first sight woman. He'd take a cab the rest of the way. "But it's my stop anyways. Nice talking to you, Lisa. I'm sure I'll see you again somewhere. As you said, it's a small world."
"But as you said, London's a bigger place than I think."
He laughed, and gathered up his bags. "Right, right." There he went, the only one off of the train.
She looked back at him from the silver streamlined machinery, wondering if the world was really all that small.
He looked up at her in the silver streamlined machinery, wondering if she'd ever come to see him like he'd hoped. Then the auburn beauty disappeared to both of them.