Train Hopping

On a train from Kayamkulam to Cochin, we had a visitor hop in somewhere midway. A free soul - as I'd like to think of him - who looked like he had nowhere in particular to be, and all the time in the world. He spoke to himself,  sat right at the doorway, never looked into where we were standing even once and hopped off promptly at the next station. If only clothes could speak, the folds on his shirt would talk of some epic tales.