A different man in a white waiter’s jacket, a cummerbund, and black slacks escorted them to a table with a prime view of the ephemeral scenery. He pulled out their chairs and called off the specialties of the evening. Tracy ordered filet mignon and a martini, heavy on the olives. Nora ordered salmon and a drink Tracy wasn’t familiar with--something pretty, she thought.

Though nothing was said as they waited for their food to come, it wasn’t achingly awkward. Nora took to staring at the open land and Tracy watched her do it. In a carefree way Tracy couldn’t have imitated even as an infant, she didn’t squirm or fidget, but presented herself freely as the object of this social experiment.

Purpose: Throw two completely different personalities together and see if fascination is born. Conclusion: Fascination thrives.

When at last their meals were set in front of them, they took their time partaking in them, choosing to savor their alcohol at little longer. Nora set down her glass and set into her dish first with an unabashed abandon her dinner companion could admire.

“No one will ever say you’re afraid to eat in public.” Tracy had hardly taken a bite of her food so far.

Nora held up her hand as she swallowed the morsel of fettuccini in her mouth.

“Those who strive to eat pretty, starve.”

“Fair point.”

From then on, the only sounds at their table was the clanging of the silverware and of their glasses impacting the tabletop. No dinner conversation; there wasn’t any need for it.

They sipped coffee as their dishes were cleared away. The dinner hall had already begun to empty. Aside from another quarter of a dozen stragglers, they were the only ones left.

“So, why do you stare at people you meet on trains?” The question surprised them both, because Tracy genuinely wanted to know and she wasn’t expecting that. What do you know, she surprised herself.

“Because traveling by train is a lost leisure activity. Everyone goes where they need to by plane or car now. Only certain kinds of people take the train.”

Tracy absently tossed her hair back and blew on her already cooled coffee.

“Such as?”

Nora laughed self-deprecatingly.

“This is going to sound ridiculous. But, in my opinion, the only people who take trains are criminals, those vainly in search of a simpler time,” her laughter began to taper off, “and those who are running away from something other than the law.”

Tracy set down her mug and folded her hands in front of her.

“And which sort of person am I?”

Nora brushed her auburn hair behind her ears.

“The kind that decided that anywhere else in the world was a better place to be than home.”

Nora’s changeling eyes--which had appeared light blue when they first met, but were now closer to green--flittered back to Tracy’s and took hold of them.

Tracy looked immediately back to the hand-sewn tablecloth. It was safer, less bothersome. She’d seen something in Nora, or worse, Nora had seen something in her. Either way, it was too intimate a connection to share with a stranger. She recaptured the mug between her palms and held it up as a meager shield between herself and the woman who somehow knew exactly what was going on in her head.

“You’re a keen observer.”

Nora chuckled again, but it was a false sound, which Tracy instantly detected.

“How does that work out for you? I would think seeing things with such clarity has to have a downside.”

She sighed, a shroud sadness wrapping itself around her.

“There is definitely a downside, but,” she shrugged nonchalantly, “you get used to it.”

“I guess you’d have to.”

They were the only passengers left now. Only the wait staff moved around discreetly to clear the other tables as they talked.

“We should probably be headed back.”

In agreement, Tracy took a final sip of her cold coffee and made a disgusted face.

“Ick! I hate cold coffee.”

Nora made an incredulous face of her own.

“You will survive. Come on, you can order another cup from the passenger car.”

They made idle conversation on their way back to the compartment they shared. The lights had already been dimmed to a drowsy level. The two of them began to feel its affect as soon as they set foot in the passageway.

Tracy yawned first, covering her mouth and stopping to gain her footing. She thought she might collapse right then. Nora leaned against the nearby wall. They didn’t talk anymore on their stumbling trek to the sliding door.

Once they arrived, they shut themselves in and collapsed into their respective seats, lifting their feet up and disappearing into exhaustion. It had been a longer evening than it felt like.

It was funny to say that they didn’t feel so much like strangers anymore.