Voices On the Track

passengers gather while their turn awaits very few standing out except for one, sprawling along my seat room for me, just about awkward two-handed pillow cupping head beyond waking, no doubt long brown trench-coat, boot soles with rugged tread next train ! should I nudge him ? needful resting or chemical stupor not for me to judge him why interfere ? his world, his well-earned dreams very hard to budge him startled, distracted, nearly miss my call! still he is not shifting urgent rush on-board, his image fading sit back, eyes uplifting spy those familiar curls, grey wooly hat conversation drifting earwigging, eavesdropping across the aisle their words come and go tune-in and filter out the ambient expose their to-and-fro they are other people, not my business but still I want to know! his mature companion, black-haired beauty she smiles, ten years older for them, no others on their train of thought like coinciding spheres bodies tilt towards overlapping touch as space between them clears carriage swaying to their sound, back and forth they listen intently animated, probing his next response she lectures him gently university trends, what does he seek? he replies attently predator woman and willing victim marooned oblivious to those furtive glances, the flapping ears attuned assiduous audience pleasured, unfolding theatre cocooned delirious rails switch, clickety-click, clickety-clack asks his destination the one just coming but then no surprise no procrastination they stay together with no track of time end-of-the-line station reality tears, they remain enthralled their mobiles uploaded walk on by, lowered voices on the cusp demeanour encoded then lost in the crowd, I wish them both well destiny railroaded