closing doors

i'm sitting on a tram, behind a woman who's writing her suicide note on her phone. she has magenta hair and her face is not young. she's wearing a red coat. it is cold outside, and dark. the tram is standing in a tunnel, under a train bridge, waiting for the traffic light to turn green. they call it semafor here. the woman is writing in a language that i do not speak well.

she is typing with her index finger, right hand. the other is holding her phone. she's writing in her notes app. the tram jerks and moves and turns. she stops typing and looks out the window. i look into her eyes in the reflection of the glass. they are brown.

she continues writing as we come to a halt. tram stop. she corrects her spelling, but does not capitalise. the tram doors open.

***

when i was a teenager, my mum locked herself in the bathroom once. sobbing. she'd had an argument with my father. he was in the kitchen, praying. i was staring at the bathroom door, listening to my mother's sobs. they sounded close but muffled. i heard my father's prayer coming from out the open kitchen door. illegible. i stood for a while and then went back to my room. my mother stopped sobbing an hour later. my father was still praying.

***

the tram doors slam shut and with a bell ring it takes off. the woman checks her messages again. she looks at the chat list for a moment and then goes back to her notes app. her head is bobbing slightly in unison with the tram. as is mine.

i look outside and see the streetlights. we pass by a church, its heavy wooden doors are open. they call it kostel here. they are singing in hymns that i do not understand. i hear an organ playing. more people are coming in. the woman glances at the church too, confused.

my stop is coming. i look at the woman and then down at her phone. it is not a long note. she checks her messages, again. the tram screeches to a stop, metal grinding against metal. i stand up and go towards the door. it opens, abruptly. the cool air from the outside rushes in. i step down onto the platform and turn around.

the heavy doors close. the woman looks at me for just a moment. our brown eyes lock. and with a bell ring, the tram takes off. i stand in the cold. it is dark outside. i hear the church bells in the distance. nine in the evening. i check my messages and walk home.