'I Suppose I'll Never Know How The Picture Finishes'

It's a picture I began way back in time - 2009 - and haven't picked up since, as is the way of such things. It shows a man on a country track, hands behind his back, staring into the horizon. A stormy skies fades down to a lighter distance.
I was on the train coming back from Nan's funeral. Caught the train from Worcester Foregate Street at 10:00am. Happy watching the landscape pass by, all sunlit and feeling like summer. Summery anyway. Shafts of sun flung down into the carriage, then taken by the shadow of some embankment, some tunnel, some other season as the train made it's way home.
I pulled out the picture and continued with the sky. At some point an older man sat next to me - he said he was 85 - and we started talking about my picture. His wife - sat on the seat opposite, talked with the girl next to her about the knitting she was doing. He said that he had always wanted to be an artist - but real life had gotten in the way. He had been involved in some kind of espionage over World War 2, and after that had finished he had done a three week course in art, one of the happiest times in his life.
He commented on my picture, over the 'dream-like atmosphere' and how he wondered at what the figure was looking at, suggesting, perhaps, some surrealist element in the distance. He soon changed his mind, saying that it was better to not know exactly what the figure was watching.
I had been through all these thoughts myself. It was like talking to a version of myself from the future - or the past depending which way you look at it.
He left before I did, and said, with a strange air of melancholy, that he would never know how the picture finished. True enough I suppose, but I think he gave me the title of the picture, whoever he was.