Status Updates From Bedouin of the London Eveni...

These Februaries, full of draughts and cracks,
They belong to the people in the streets, the others
Out there - haberdashers and writers of menus.
Salt breezes! Bolsters from Istanbul!
Barometers, full of contempt, controlling moody isobars.
Sumptuous tittle-tattle from a summer crowd
That's fed on lemonades and matinees.

"All because of a certain feeling he gave me once or twice, which made me cry out 'Now I shall not have lived in vain!' Because I expected that feeling from life, and tried to take it for myself, it promptly vanished. And now I can't even remember what it was like. And don't even care."

She gets a sight, in the distance, of the other car just disappearing. The car she might have been in forty years ago if she'd married her friend. But instead she married her lover. And that road lead her only to herself.