Inside the night train it is quiet.Two in the morning, everyone asleep.I look outside through the curtain:passing villages, extinguished lights.In someone's house, still,a television is flickering.
The seat beside me is empty.You were supposed to sit there.I bought two tickets.One is crumpled in my pocket;the other is still lookingfor the road to you.
The conductor comes close and asks nothing.He simply sees my face and passes by.I write you a letter:I will arrive safely.In truth I do not even know where I am going;I only want to reassure you.
I fold the letter and place it on the empty seat.Someone gets on at the next stationand picks it up.Without reading it, they look out the window.That person is not you.I do not rise from my seat.