Train Fellow | 2

We had never spoken. Not a word on that first ride six months ago, not a nod on the three chance encounters after. But a train fellow isn’t a friend. A train fellow is something quieter, stranger—a witness you didn’t ask for, a rhythm you fall into without consent.

For the next train fellow , the note said. train fellow 2

I smiled. The journey, I realized, had only just begun. Would you like this as a prose poem, a flash fiction, or a script for a short film? We had never spoken

This time, though, something shifted.

And that’s when I understood: a train fellow isn’t a stranger forever. Sometimes, a second crossing turns him into a companion. Not by plan. By mileage. By the slow, diesel-scented accumulation of small, shared silences finally breaking open. A train fellow is something quieter, stranger—a witness