Train Fellow 2 -

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.

We rode together until his stop—three stations early, he got off with a wave. He left the other apple on the seat. 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. And that’s when I understood: a train fellow