On the Train

Before she left for work in the morning, she would think of what he would say to her on the train.

They were strangers. She had been sitting in a seat meant for two and pressed her body close up against the sticky walls of the train. She didn’t normally like to be close with people on the train, and she tried to avoid conversation with most commuters. She didn’t like strangers prying into her life, with only 15 minutes till her destination arrived she found it pointless to try and become friends with anyone. Who knew if she would ever see them again?

He was different. He commuted the same way as her, but got off at the stop after her, the last stop. As she was pressed against the train’s side, he walked onto the train. His clothes looked like they were taken off a mannequin, with a blue button-up tucked into his slacks neatly, like her mom used to do for her in elementary school, right before picture day. Hair mussed slightly, he looked like a baby chick with its new fluffed up feathers peeking up on its head. His dirty blonde hair fell close to his eyes, and he pushed it out of the way as he boarded the train and searched for a seat.

She knew there were other seats on the train, but he chose to sit next to her.

He politely asked, “Can I sit here?”

She moved her bag aside and inched closer to the wall.

“Sure.”

He plopped down beside her, too close, and handed his ticket to the conductor. Turning to her he said, “Do you ride all the way to the end of the line?”

The rest of the conversation was idle chit-chat. Where are you working? How do you like the town? This weather is crazy, right? Even though she knew it was silly, she couldn’t stop talking to him. She didn’t even know him.

That’s why she woke up in a hurry every morning, heart racing, and made sure she never missed the train again. She never knew when it would be the last time they would talk on the train.