Echoes in Steel & Glass

The train screeches, a metal beast hungry for souls. I don’t look at it.
This station…it's all chipped paint and ghosts of promises. Places like these hold onto heat longer than most, though the chill still bites. He found me here once, you see? Not rescuing, not exactly. More like...recognizing a kindred spirit in the wreckage.
He’d offered a warmth I hadn't known existed outside flickering neon signs and static-laced broadcasts. A shared cigarette, a stolen glance as the city bled past…small rebellions against the rust.
Now, he watches from across the platform, shadows clinging to his coat like secrets. His eyes meet mine – a flicker of recognition, a silent acknowledgment of our fragile truce with this world.
A slow smile touches my lips. Maybe some things *can* be salvaged from the ruins.

Editor: Rusty Cog