We Know

It's a quick trip. I've gone to visit my grandmother in her new retirement home. I'm going back home and I fall asleep once I'm settled on the train.

When I wake up, I'm no longer alone in the compartment. Three men are facing me. The two in uniforms are sitting on either side of a man who's staring straight at me. His eyes are wide and his mouth is gaping slightly. I feel a shock run through me. I know him. I know him even though I've never seen him before in my life.

He's terrified. He's wearing a pale gray prison uniform and I see the sweat stains under his arms. He has both legs and arms chained to the other men. I know where he's going. He's not coming back.

But I know him. And he knows me. We know what's supposed to happen now.

We're supposed to leave this train together. I'm supposed to take him to my cramped apartment and let him change into an old outfit my brother left me before he left for the war. Then this man and I would eat the meat pies my grandmother gave me. Then we would spend the night together.

And every night after that. Until the day we're both gray and wrinkled and our bodies have become limp sacks of skin and bone. Until the day we both fall asleep forever.

But that isn't what's going to happen. We both know this when we feel the train come to a stop. The uniformed men quickly stand up and undo the shackles on his feet. They push him out of the compartment.

All I can do is stare at the back of him as he's taken away from me.