day 5

there are halcyon times and places from yesteryears that people visit in memory when they lose someone. we donot. we dont talk about good old times. we talk about moving on. past midnight, when along the path of some other conversation we unknowingly lose way and find ourselves in that still unfamiliar place of loss, we talk about possibilities instead of grief. we talk about changed identities and how that can heal if you let it flow. 

last night we drifted. we talked again. past midnight. into dawn almost. it is calming when she talks. I sleep well after. 

nothing, noone else brings peace like she does. 

...

"what was that ...", Xena muttered in darkness. Unsure of what just happened. 

"what the - !", jolted Yash. 

The lights flickered back on. Both riders were relieved, expecting restoration of services in the next few seconds. They took couple deep inhales, nervous exhales, shifted a little in their spaces and were no longer leaning back. 

What felt like five minutes, passed. The cabin was still. Inside, outside. The passengers, now a little apart, at adjacent corners of a four die face, looked at each other, as if in a silent dialogue.