As the rhythmic hum of the train embraced the quiet journey home, a woman beside me succumbed to slumber, finding an unintentional haven on my shoulder. Despite my destination slipping away with each passing stop, I hesitated to disturb her sleep.

It wasn't until the train had passed three stops beyond my intended exit that I summoned the courage to gently pat her shoulder, coaxing her back to consciousness. I then found myself grappling the uncertainty on how to bridge the silence that hung between us as I'm deaf. Could she understand sign language?

With a hopeful smile, I delicately signed, "I apologize for waking you up, I missed my stops a while ago. I should get off the train now."