The Passenger
It had been a long day at the office, and I hurried through dark and deserted streets to catch the last train home. The entrance to the subway greeted me with the cold glare of neon lights. I bolted down the stairs and through corridor after corridor winding through the bowels of the city, the hollow sound of my footsteps reflecting from the walls. I made it to the train just in time. I was alone for the ride, the only passenger…
…
… I must have dosed off, as I awakened with a start, at first confused as to where I was. Then I realised a man was sitting opposite me. He looked vaguely familiar, and I asked,
“Do I know you?”
“I was going to ask you exactly the same question”, he returned.
It suddenly occurred to me that I might have missed my station. I looked at my watch, and the man said,
“Is it important whether you have missed your station? Only if you really wanted to get off there. So think about that beforehand. Did you want to get off?”
I hesitated, confused, answering, “Is there a choice? I am going home. I have to eat, I have to go to sleep. How else am I to continue my life?”
“What if you had already missed your station?”
“Well”, I said, “I would get off at the next station and go back.”
“What if there was no next station? What if there was no going back? Imagine this train not travelling through a tunnel under the city anymore. Imagine it has somehow left the tunnel and is now travelling through space. Forever. It will never stop again. Outside, countless stars are shining in eternal blackness. You are the only passenger. There are no more obligations, no more appointments, no expectations on you on behalf of anyone. There is no tomorrow. Just you and the stars. Forever. Would you be happy?”
I tried to imagine what this would be like. “Forever”, I repeated in a murmur, “It will never stop again. Outside, countless stars are shining in eternal blackness…”
Suddenly, the lights went out, and all was dark. Just a power shortage, I thought. A faint glimmer was still coming from the outside, from the tunnel. It slowly dawned on me that it came from tiny little specks of light. I saw hundreds, then thousands, and then millions. I looked at the dim outline of the man opposite me and asked,
“Who are you?”
And the man asked, “Who are you?”
I asked, “Don’t you know?”
And the man asked, “Don’t you know?”
And I realized I was not looking at another man, but a dim reflection of myself in the window. Outside, countless stars were shining in eternal blackness. I was the only passenger. There were no more obligations, no more appointments, no expectations on me on behalf of anyone. There was no tomorrow. Just me and the stars. Forever.