Stripes of rain p.uz.z.le my reflection on the train’s window. The old lady sitting next to me tells me her destination and asks me to wake her if she’d lose track of time and fall asleep.

“Oh, losing track of time would be nice” I hear myself think, licking the consequences of a chocolate bar from my fingers.

“You can’t ask a stranger for napkins.”
“Why not? If I ask her now, maybe when she went to the shop, before getting on the train, she will buy more packs.”
“You can’t change the past.”
“Time doesn’t exist and I am not changing the past, only the potentiality of the napkin. When you aren’t looking, there is a sea of potentials, until the moment you choose.”
“It doesn’t make sense.”
“Because we see only what we think is possible.”

The old lady smiles and hands me a pack of napkins. “Please, keep them, I bought more than one.”

The train’s doors slide to let me come back from the shop. Water. Chocolate. Newspapers. Oh damn, I forgot to buy napkins, and now it’s too late, the wheels are in motion.