by Becky De Oliveira
“For your information, there was no faster train and you almost made us miss this one, you freak,” my friend huffed, as we plunked ourselves, winded, back into our original seats. The man in the purple t-shirt, sitting straight-backed in the seat opposite closed his eyes as if he had a headache. “Once you have chosen a train, it is best to stick with that train or risk losing everything,” he said in a calm, quiet voice. He opened his eyes and held out a bag of shelled and roasted peanuts as a peace offering. We shook our heads, folded our arms, and glared at him. “Fine,” he said, “more for me,” and he chewed slowly, staring at us while we stared back until the sun had ducked low behind the passing mountains and the cabin was dark.
Becky De Oliveira is a native of Seattle who lived for twelve years in the UK. She now resides in a tiny town in Southwest Michigan, and works as an editor, graphic designer, and teacher.