Joey To | Hong Rui Choo
The raindrops streak and split across the window, softening what little sunlight there is. I feel like yawning but I don’t. I also feel like shutting my eyes. I don’t do that either. The rhythmic clanking of the carriage thumping over the rails acts as a lullaby and an alarm clock simultaneously… I fix my tie, not that it really needs fixing.
Screeching, the train pulls up to the station. Just one more stop. I glance at my watch: 12:55. Still plenty of time. An old gentleman and lady are seated at the platform with their perfectly clean clothes, deep in conversation. I smirk, wondering how many of us will age gracefully with another—
I see a girl with long brown hair in school uniform standing alone on the far platform across the line, her head bowed. I know it’s not her. For one thing, we’re not in high school anymore. And her hair was straighter. And it’s a different city. But all stations seem the same: same signage, same wandering souls, same analog clock… and today, those same grey clouds and rain. The girl glances at me, then gazes down again.
I sigh and stare at the rails below.