You can tell time by the way the street lights flicker by.
The train is empty except for a couple sitting at the end of the third car.
The lights flicker, illuminating their faces.
He adjusts the hat on his knee.
She adjusts her hat, pulling it lower, looking out the window.
It’s hard for me to decide where I want to go.
I go for months without finding the right thing.
It comes slowly.
The train comes to a stop.
The doors open.
The couple moves gracefully through the exit. Stalking into the night.
They enter a diner.