At The End of the Day

"Hey!" I walked up and greeted as she shut and locked the door.
"Oh! Hello, John." She was Alison, sister to someone I knew back in college.
"Long day, eh?" Long, it definitely was, for my watch read 10:32 P.M., and she had just locked her office door.
"Tell me about it!" A tiresome smile she gave me, putting away that big set of keys into one of the bags she was carrying, then asked, "Yours also, huh?"
"Oh yah! Except shorter than yesterday, hah." The same kind of smile I found myself giving to her, with she carrying that smile still. Then, I asked, "To the bus station?"
"Honour to walk you there?"
She hesitated a bit.
"After you."
And so we walked.

At the end of the day, it is still the one we call dear whom we long for a hug and a kiss; who really is the harbour at which we anchor.
At the end of the day, however, it may be these random encounters that lighten the way back to the harbour.