You’re staring over the edge of the bridge, palms cold on the rail. You hear footsteps. Then a voice. “You don’t have to do this today.”

You don’t turn around. “You don’t know me.”

A pause. Then “No. But I don’t have anywhere else I’d rather be.”

You glance back. He’s sitting cross-legged, just far enough away to give you space. He sets a warm takeout bag on the concrete. “I brought too much ramen. In case someone was hungry.”

And for some reason… you sit down too.