The train rattled under
the humming lights.
Around him, phones
flickered with videos and
late replies.
His thumb drifted across
the glass without reading
a word.
The tiredness from the
desk followed him all the
way to the doors.
The station platform
smelled of damp evening
air.
He stepped out and paused
under the streetlamp.
An empty evening waited
ahead of him at home.
Lately, even resting felt
like another chore to
finish.
He put the phone into
his dark coat pocket.
He did not rush to cross
the quiet street.
I don't need to fill this,
he thought.
He kept walking slowly
into the cold night air.