Station

   It was an ordinary late evening. One of those evenings when people hurry back to their houses after a long day of hard work more intensively than usual. Sitting and biting into an apple on a suburban electric train was tedious. In the doorway, I watched how people were going by like drones. One girl in a blue jacket was drawing something in her sketchbook. She was sitting straight, and from time to time, she turned her head towards the lady who was sitting nearby and briefly answered her questions. It felt awesome to have such a hobby. Surprisingly for myself, I had the urge to begin smoking. "A funny thing" I thought without paying any particular attention to this thought. I knew that I had never smoked, never used to smoke and probably never will. Anyway, this thought just dropped into my mind. I bit off a bigger piece of apple. "Nonsense. Stress. That is it. That is all,” I muttered slowly, but kindly to myself.

   People still got on the suburban electric train and their colored clothes notably contrasted with grey walls on board. It was raining outside, so we met dull weather when we stopped at the station. Then I saw you on the same platform, with the same umbrella, smoking your cigarette. You were talking to someone. It was evident that you took an active part in that conversation. At times, you released puffs of smoke while you were continuing your lively conversation. At one point, it became clear that the woman you were talking to wasn’t satisfied. You had a simple look of indifference on your face compared with the anxious expression of your companion. You were so relaxed, looking away at a rowdy crowd. I had a look at my watch, then smiled to myself. "Funny. What a funny thing!" I exclaimed, and turned away from the window. Now without any desire to smoke.


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