I took my seat on the train and began reading Cry, the Beloved Country. I already knew it by heart, but the intensity of the words on page was much more satisfying. Nobody came to sit next to me before the train started to pull away from the station. That was expected and wanted. I felt like I had more privacy with a row to myself. I read and thought and daydreamed for a while. It was nice to be able to let my mind wander in a million different directions at once and not become distracted or confused. I was happy, hopeful, anxious, doubtful, worn all at the same time. How many years had passed in this life? I had begun to lose count. Everyday started to feel the same. I wondered back to my human life and its ever-changing ways. I couldn’t handle much back then; I remembered that quite clearly. Those years were like events leading up to this moment of immorality. But my anticlimactic lifestyle sort of ruined what I had anticipated for so long.  I was content but that could have been achieved with time and healing as a mortal. If I could have gone back to that moment, I would have done something, anything, to save me from forever. The unwilled and unplanned sacrifices I made that day far outnumbered the chances in normality. 

The train danced onward above its tracks. It twirled through green plains under dark skies. My reflection jostled in the window as I looked out at my new lush home. The conductor went over the intercom. “We will be stopping shortly at Kipnuk. Please make room for new passengers. If this is your stop, gather your belongings and head to the nearest exit. Thank you.” I grudgingly moved my bag from the chair next to me and continued reading my book. 

Everything moved to a slow stop as we reached the small town. Doors opened and people flooded the hallways. I hardly looked up to see what strangers were glancing at my empty seat. I knew people didn’t really wanted to sit beside me, on account of my hostile vibe. But somebody did. I looked up to see the bold newcomer. 

What was going to be an audible hello turned into a gasp of surprise. We looked at each other for a long time before he began.

  “I believe I know you.” He felt bad for not knowing my name, I could tell with the mood change. Then again, I couldn’t blame him for not noticing who I was because I hardly recognized myself. He was staring at me with alarm and wonder. Of course he knew I was like him, in more ways then one. Our eyes were the same color of light topaz and our benign smiles told one another we were safe in the public eye.