I switched my attention to another person. Its a man. Young. In his late 20s maybe. He wore a t-shirt that says some joke about computer coding. He carried a bag of chips in one hand and a phone in the other.
He was a computer coder for a business.
He lived alone in a small apartment. I could imagine him coming home after a long day of working, kicking off his shoes and jumping on to the couch where he sleeps. He has a bed but he never makes it there.
He loves his job. He has made friends with everyone who works there. He rolls around the office on his rolling chair and talks to people between assignments. His smile is contagious and he instantly became the joker at work. But he can do his job well. And he puts effort into making sure of that.
He picked up the chips for a party at his work-friend's house. There was a big sports game that was soon taking place and he was in charge of the chips.
As for any relationship that wasn't a friendship: he gave up on romance a long time ago and his parents live in the neighboring city where he visits on holidays. He calls his parents at least once a week to check up.
This young man was more that just a person on the train. He was a friend and a worker and a son.
He carried himself with purpose. And the anxiety I felt subsided.
YOU ARE READING
Lives
Short Story** the world would somehow find a way to move on ** In which an anxiety-ridden girl in a train car learns about the importance of everyone's life in the worst way imaginable.
