The old woman was sitting in the last carriage of the train, looking out the window as if waiting for someone to arrive before the train departed the station.
A girl in her twenties came carrying a bag and wearing earphones and sat next to her.
The woman continued to look at the girl, and after a few moments, she approached her, asking,
Are you from our city?
The girl replied, after removing the earphones from her ear, "No, but from a city near here."
And what brought you here?
I came to your city to submit my university credentials.
How old are you, then?
Twenty-two years old.
The woman looked back at the window, tears almost falling from her eyes.
My daughter was the same age as you when she ran away from home and never returned.
The girl turned off the music she was listening to and began to pay attention and respond to the old woman's conversation.
And why did you run away?
She ran away because of my husband's treatment of her. He was unable to compensate for the loss of her father, who left her when she was young.
And why did he leave you?
He loved another woman and married her.
And will you live? Alone
Yes, I left my second husband, and my son also traveled to work abroad. I now miss my son and daughter, and I miss their father even more.
Do you still love him after he left you alone?
Despite the years of separation, I still remember him well, and for hours I think about and remember how our life was filled with happiness. I remember him well when he sat at the piano, playing his usual piece, and when he would turn the pages of the newspaper, the smoke from his cigarette wafting from behind the paper, drinking his coffee after hours had passed. He preferred to drink it cold. The girl approached the old lady.
Did he love you as much as I loved him?
Perhaps he loved me more, but he was a man of few words and had a delicate sensibility. He played music, painted pictures, and wrote poetry. Despite his thick white hair, he was very handsome, with blue eyes and black hair that blended with his white locks. He spoke Arabic mixed with a few foreign languages. He had lived for a long time in a foreign country because his mother was English, and he worked as a sailor. Since he left us, we were unable to find his address until they separated and she married someone else.
The girl moved closer to the old lady and embraced her while she cried.
What's wrong, my daughter? Are you affected to this extent? Never mind. I've forgotten everything. Don't cry.
My father, too, was very handsome, with blue eyes and black hair mixed with white streaks. He painted pictures, worked as a sailor, spoke Arabic with English, loved drinking cold coffee, and wrote poetry. He left my mother and me when I was young to search for his ex-wife and children, whom he had left behind 25 years earlier.
