The board said the last train was delayed. Nobody groaned. There were only three of us left on the platform, and perhaps we had all run out of places we needed to reach urgently.
A woman came to stand beside me, just outside the rain. She moved her umbrella so its dry edge covered my shoulder. We watched the water slide between the tracks. When she noticed the camera in my hand, she asked what I was photographing.
“The wait,” I said. She laughed in a way that made it sound less foolish. I took a picture of the empty platform, but none of her. Some kindnesses don't need a portrait to stay.
The train arrived before either of us was ready.
I got on. She stayed behind. I never learned whether she was waiting for a different train or simply liked that small pocket of quiet as much as I did.