Riding Home Alone

On the way home, I found myself one of the few (only?) passengers in my Metra car. Not just the one I was in, but the adjoining section to boot.

The train was so empty in the station that I was on my way to go ask the conductors if I was on the right train. But just as I was getting up… the loudspeaker confirmed my train number.

When the conductor came back to check my ticket, I walked up the aisle to meet him (because I could tell I was the only person around, in the last car).

There was a surreal and calming quality about being the only person on board, at least as far as I could see. No stops at Willoughby yet, which I take as a good sign.

Related:
Alone
Alone on the Bus
Fleeting Flossmoor
Time Warp