” One whiff of his pheromone inducing fragrance had my blush burning. He was fine – hella good-looking. He stood a half of a head above my five foot eight inch frame with dark tanned skin, grey eyes, and brown hair. Although we’d exchanged smiles and a few nods on previous train trips, we never formally introduced ourselves, nor did we swap shoptalk. Our chatter on that day narrowed the communication chasm...somewhat. My resentment relaxed...somewhat. “Thanks,” I nodded and smiled. “I’m glad Metro got the issue resolved.” The doors closed, and the train accelerated. Not more than three minutes later, there was a loud boom and complete darkness. The wheel clacking came to an abrupt, squealing halt. “Aw,” we all sighed in unison. I didn’t know it at the time, but this forlorn riders’ cry was the soundtrack for the next hour. I believed the inconvenience would be brief; unfortunately, that was not the case. Dim emergency lighting colored the darkness light black. In less than a half. The wreck had exploded, hurling him and the woman in his arms through the air, their bodies crashing heavily against a distant gum tree. * * * A week later, early on Friday morning, Susie called in to visit her husband, Bill, in his office and to talk over their change in fortune. They had already discussed Peter’s mysterious disappearance and were engrossed in a close examination of the pleasing figures in their books when she heard the door open suddenly. Looking up, Susie was surprised to see two burly police officers standing before her. ‘Mrs. Williams?’ Susie’s heart sank. The tone of the officer’s voice boded ill news. She could only nod her head in agreement. ‘You are the next-of-kin of Mr. Peter O’Brien?’ They paused, awaiting her reply. Unable to speak, as if frozen in time, she again nodded. ‘Mr. O’Brien is on life support at Royal North Shore Hospital. We advise you to go to the hospital as soon as possible. He’s there as the result of trying to save a woman who was killed.
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