The Night Train

Mei had never taken a night train before. When she boarded in Hanoi, the carriage glowed with warm lamps and the beds were already folded down. A fruit seller moved through the corridor, calling out prices for mangoes and sticky rice. Mei climbed to the upper berth and watched lights slide past the window. Across from her, an older woman shared tea from a metal flask and told stories about her village. The rocking motion made sleep easy, and Mei woke to mist over green fields. By the time the train reached the coast, she had a new friend, three photos, and a plan to return by the same slow train. Mei wrote down the journey in a small notebook. She listed the names of the stations, the price of the mangoes, and the tea the older woman poured. She also wrote what she had learned: that a night train is a room full of strangers who become neighbours by morning, and that slow travel lets a place arrive gradually instead of all at once. At the coast she found the sea already busy with fishing boats. She stayed two nights, walked the harbour, and bought a ticket for the return journey. This time she chose the lower berth so she could watch the fields from the window. Before leaving, she sent a postcard to the woman from the upper bunk.