We head for the same seat on the train and laugh, gesturing the other to take it. Although strangers, we seem like twins: same age, same life stage.
She tells me about her grandson. She loves him but he is impossible with his ADHD and tattoos.
I share the mental health issues and divorces that have torn my own family.
Her kind eyes invite confidences and I find myself telling her about the hard lump in my breast.
She listens, asks the pertinent questions.
“No, I haven’t told my husband yet.” How could I, with all he is going through?
She understands my reservations instantly, but is determined. “Promise me you’ll phone the doctor. YOU are important too.”
The train pulls into her station and she leaves me. Loneliness shrouds me for a moment, as if half of myself has been ripped away.
Just a stranger, yet she knew me.
I know what must be done now. Stomach churning, I nevertheless pull out my phone and dial the doctor's number.
4/24/2026
The Words That Got to Me
Loneliness shrouds me for a moment, as if half of myself has been ripped away *I am a huge believer in the idea that you don't need to know someone for a long time to know that he or she has an important spot in your life. This sounds like the case here.
What an impactful short story this is. A fleeting connection that will have long-term reverberations. It is so tightly written that there is not one unnecessary word, and the consequence of each one is lingering with me. Really well done, Rachel. xoxo