The train pulls out of the station. The dull drone of its engine and the periodic thump of metal wheels meeting rail breaks accompanies the dusty scent of steam and burning coal.

The journey continues in silence, with him reclining backwards in his seat as she pages through his book. He stares into space, vaguely acknowledging the scores of faceless passengers and thinking about how they are all shared voyagers in time and space. She smiles at a witty line, and flips the page.

Brakes are applied, the train gently eases to a stop. Pistons sigh and coupling rods command the wheels to halt. She returns him the book, and a silence settles.

“See you when I see you,” she says.

He stood up, buttoning his navy flannel blazer.

“See you…if I see you,” He corrects, then leaves the carriage as the doors slide open.