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Barcelona, early spring
They had first laid eyes on each other at the train station. Track 14. She had worn a close cut blue silk dress. He would never forget the dress. Nor her bare shoulders which he had wanted to touch before they had even spoken. She had looked at him, her dark eyes not letting him go. He had watched her board the train, as she slowly climbed the steps. He had stood still, unable to move.

“Not going north?” she asked, as she turned around.

Her lips, full and inviting had broken into a smile. It was at that moment, that all his plans had changed. He picked up his back pack and got on board.

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