She and he were made for each other. They both loved walking in the rain, and omelettes with cheese, and drying tomatoes in the summer sun, bell bottoms and also bell peppers, dancing in the kitchen and many other things. It was on a rainy day in November that they crossed each other at a train station. He was going there and she was also going there. They both hopped in the same wagon and moved along looking for a spot of their own in the crowded car. They looked down where feet are like people do sometimes and maybe often, and didn’t even see each other’s face. She thought his cognac Oxford shoes were nice; he thought her burgundy boots were cool. They both said ‘excuse me’ as they squeezed by to exit at the same station and those were the only words they ever exchanged in their lives. They didn’t know they were soulmates. They married people who at the time they thought were their soulmates only to discover that they were not. As the years went by they stopped thinking about having a soulmate at all and even ridiculed those who dared believe in such a silly concept. The spiritual void that would from time to time disturb their quiet suburban lives, they attributed to fatigue. In time, the fatigue will have settled and become a daily occurrence, and she and he will have lived their lives never knowing that for one brief moment on a train from Leipzig to Dresden they brushed against their perfect other half.