The platform is nearly empty now. Snow drifts through the yellow glow of the lamps, melting as it touches the ground. You can hear the rhythmic click of rails cooling beneath the train, the soft chatter of a conductor somewhere down the line.

Your companion stands near the door, luggage at their feet, eyes following the faint reflection of passing lights on the windows. “It’s strange,” they murmur, half to themself. “Every goodbye feels like a train you almost missed.”