the night train to budapest

She had the seat opposite yours on the night train, and somewhere after midnight her enormous thermos ran out, and you offered her your terrible coffee, and that was that. The two of you talked through the whole of Austria in the dark, hills you could only tell were there by the way the lights tilted, and she drew a map of her hometown on the back of your ticket so you would understand a story properly.

At six in the morning you stood on the platform and swapped numbers, both of you certain that was the end of it. Eight years on she was at your wedding. The ticket with the map is still in the box where you keep the things that matter.