Everyday life

Every afternoon, outside my office window, I can see somebody's husband (I presume) waiting for his wife (I presume) coming from work (I presume). Always waiting in their car. It is rather sweet. Today there was no car. Did they decide to walk home in the beautiful spring (or rather summer) afternoon? Has the car broken down? Are they trying to loose weight? Or have they sold their car, making the world a better place? I have no idea. It is strange to see people everyday, inevitably a story about the two and their lives emerges in my mind.