When he booked the ticket two weeks ago, he didn’t hesitate. It was more than he usually spent on train travel—but this wasn’t about money. It was about silence. He chose the quiet car specifically, a reserved seat with a wide window and extra legroom. A little bubble of calm carved out just for him.
No phone calls. No crying babies. No loud music. Just the hum of the tracks, the blur of trees, and maybe—if the train gods were kind—a decent cup of coffee from the café car. He needed it more than he wanted to admit.
The station was already buzzing when Daniel arrived that morning. Families with roller bags. Tourists snapping photos of old signage. A man with a Bluetooth headset pacing like he owned the floor tiles. Daniel stood off to the side, watching the crowd thicken around the departure board, waiting for Train 219 – Northeast Express to appear.
When the platform was finally announced—Track 8—he headed down with a small rush of anticipation. This was it. The first thing in days he could control. His own little escape pod on steel rails.