A Train Ride



You know what.

No. I don’t. I’m sitting. Sitting here. Minding my own business. Doing nothing.

Just stop. There was silence for two minutes. She lit a cigarette and turned to him again. How does it feel?


What I’m doing. This thing I’m doing to you.

You’re not doing anything.

But, I am. The same thing you were doing to me, she stopped talking. He stared out the train window. Trees went by. Old buildings in small towns. Debris out in the streets. They both looked out the window. Then she, sitting across from him, looked at him again. There sure is a lot to see, she said. This is my first time on a train.

Oh, he turned to her.

Don’t do that.


You know what. Think I look funny? she asked. You keep staring at me. Don’t look at me.

You were talking to me.

Yes. Yes, I was. I need a drink. Maybe that would calm me down. Do you want to join me?

He looked out the window. Saw cars lined up. Dodge, Fords, pickups, station wagons, a Pinto. No, he said. He pointed to outside.

Fine. Maybe you could see about sitting somewhere else while I’m away.

Maybe. Just maybe.

You don’t have to be condescending, she walked away. He continued looking at America.

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