a possible epilogue:

...the parks and pub gardens are already filling up with families; the middle aged; children swarm the playgrounds in frenetic multicoloured knots of activity; and the easy slopes of surrounding hills are dotted with walkers. The central streets that radiate out and up the shallow valley sides from the railway are still full of young people; huddled under coats in short sleeves and dresses; pale and painted faces; bright and shaped hair and hats; almost none of them stood, and so silent. In the station they cover most of the internal floor space and stairwells. A dozen or so squat at regular intervals within the low haze marked sunlight that cuts across the edge of the otherwise deserted platform; arms tucked in tight against the chest; or crossed around under their knees for balance; like a row of pigeons. Motionless; even the one within reach of the brown plastic cup of a machine instant coffee, only steam twisting up through still frosty air; until the platform roof has pushed its shadow out over the edge and down onto the track well gravel, when they all stand together and move stiffly away...

[ 1st January 2000 ]