The train conductor walked up to me and clicked
his heels together. The woman was in the
bathroom powdering her nose. I was clacking
away on the laptop I’d purchased from a
vendor one hour before. “What’s up?” I asked
the black-haired man. “Are you planning on staying?”
he demanded. I shrugged and looked back at the
computer screen. “What the hell are you doing?”
the man mumbled. “Writing,” I replied, softly.
“It looks like you’re typing to me,” he chuckled.
I sighed, but didn’t look up. The man began
to read over my shoulder. “When I look at
you, I see my future. I don’t know why I–”
“Hey!” I yelped, blocking the screen with my right hand.
“Who do you think you are, pal? That’s personal.”
He smiled and nodded. “Who’s it about?” he
inquired. “That’s none of your damned business
and I’ll thank you to stay out of my affairs,”
I informed him. That’s when the woman walked up.
“What are you talking about?” she asked. “Nothing,”
I said, and she glared at me. I rolled my eyes.
“We were discussing the film Young Einstein and
how it ties in somehow with a movie called
Frequency,” I told her, through my teeth. “Have you
seen either of them?” She shook her head. “Didn’t
think so. What about you, old man? How is your
portfolio these days?” The train whistle blew.
“Are you coming or not?” the conductor asked.
I turned to the woman. She bit her lip and
took a breath, then sat on the bench and spread her
legs a fraction of an inch more than normal.
“Not at the moment, but probably later…”