Traveling to Paddington Station, I am reveling in the idea and anticipation of meeting Robert in yet another city, elsewhere in the world, from where we live - Johannesburg, Stockholm, London, Rome. This time it's London again, and I very well may smile the entire way to city centre on the Heathrow Express. Earlier it rained, unrelentingly. Hours rolled on and the clouds found their way across the sky. Now the Sun is shining a bit uncertainly, hovering nearby as if daring the clouds to know their place. The train hums, almost a whistle, in what I imagine is a faint B flat. 
Terra cotta roofs wiz by, my eyes not quick enough to focus on just one. I notice brown brick homes joined together, dirty in their appeal, many with gardens nestled tightly in the space at the rear. A clothes line crossing at the corner while pairs of pants drape limp beneath them.
From Frankfurt, I arrived in London where I would meet my Robert in 60 minutes time.
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