train stations

i.

"How many?"

"Just one."

"One way, you said?"

"Yes," she whispered. Her voice was hoarse, tired, rough. "Please."

She wanted to sit cross-legged on the train tracks, staring straight into the blinding headlight, so that the blare of its horn would overrun her thoughts. In her last moments she would find quiet in the chaos.

The man at the counter told her the price, and she handed him the right amount of crinkled bills from her pocket.

"You'd better hurry," he said. "It leaves here soon."

She nodded, flashed a weak smile, and walked towards the train. Her heart fluttered as she boarded, but she didn't hesitate.

The rain and the wind stayed behind her.

She settled into her seat. Not many people rode trains anymore. Even fewer wanted to board a train an hour past midnight. For the best—a crowded train would have suffocated her.

The windows were foggy. Raindrops still dripped down her cheeks.

After situating her backpack on her lap, she pulled her boots off and stretched her toes. She never liked walking very much. The weather made it even worse.

She closed her eyes and finally tried to think about what was happening, but thinking felt like walking through quicksand. She was bombarded with so many incoherent questions, so many distant fears—

"You boarded pretty late."

She looked up. A woman with rich brown skin gazed down at her with a light, curious smile. Black ringlets poked out from under her hood, and her eyes were infinitely dark.

"Oh, yeah," she murmured, shifting in her seat. "I didn't want to wait for the next train."

"In a hurry to get somewhere?"

"No, not really," she said. In a hurry to leave somewhere.

"You seem tired."

"I'm not."

"I'm not either. Would you like some company?"

She studied the strange woman briefly before nodding. "Yeah, sure."

"I'm Melanie," she said, and everything beyond the train stopped.