In the train car traveling from Novy Urengoy to Moscow, the air was heavy, saturated with the smells of fried food and unventilated space. Valeriy, a man of average height with a square jaw and tired eyes covered with a murky film of sleepless nights, absently wiped the foggy window with his palm. Three months on a remote drilling rig under the relentless dome of the polar night had knocked him off balance to the extreme.
Directly in front of him, a woman appeared, accidentally bumping his shoulder with her baggy briefcase. He tensed, ready to unleash his irritation, but paused, meeting her calm, attentive brown-eyed gaze.
«Excuse me,» she said quietly, yet confidently. «It’s always so crowded on these trains.»
Valeriy just grunted, sizing her up with a scrutinizing look. She seemed to be over fifty. Her gray suit looked impeccable, and her ripe walnut-colored hair was neatly tied up in a bun. She clearly didn’t belong to the category of those returning from shift work.
«It’s fine, nothing,» he muttered, trying to hide his displeasure.
«My name is Tamara,» she continued, extending her hand. «We’re neighbors in this car for the next twenty-four hours.»
«Valeriy,» he responded, shaking her surprisingly dry, warm palm. «I’m coming from the shift.»
«Oh, that’s such tough work…» Her voice was soft but sincere. «Maybe you’d like some tea? I have a thermos.»
«I wouldn’t refuse,» he said after a pause.
Tamara pulled out the thermos from her bag, along with a packet of homemade cookies. As she poured the tea, she casually asked:
«Is your family waiting for you at home?»
He flinched as if shocked and burned himself with the hot tea, spilling it on his wrist.
«I had a family… Now just alimony,» he gritted out, restraining irritation.
«Sorry, I didn’t mean to…» she extended a napkin to him.
«It’s fine… It’s been five years since the divorce,» he grumbled, roughly wiping his hand.
«And since then, alone?» she ventured again.
«What, are you hinting at a date?» Valeriy snapped back, but then realized his sharpness. «Sorry, just tired of questions…»
«You know, I was married too,» Tamara replied calmly. «But I became a widow ten years ago.»
«Damn… Sorry, I didn’t mean…» he hesitated.
«It’s alright,» she smiled. «Life goes on. Now I have a different reality: work, daughter, grandson.»
«And what do you do?» Valeriy tried to change the subject, wishing to smooth over his rudeness.
«I’m a librarian. Been one for thirty years.»
«Seriously?» he raised his eyebrows in surprise. «I thought libraries had vanished long ago. The internet’s everywhere now.»
«You’re mistaken,» Tamara’s voice grew firmer, even metallic. «People still need libraries. Especially now, when we’re all submerged in a world of gadgets.»
«Yeah, sure,» he turned back to the window. «But who needs paper books in the age of digital technology?»
«And who needs drillers if there are robots? Do you think a human is always better than a machine?»
He turned sharply to her, his face flushed.
«That’s completely different! We create real value! Tangible things!» he argued, feeling a mix of energy, exhaustion, and offense building inside him.
«And we create what keeps your world together,» Tamara retorted calmly. «Without us, your material achievements would turn into nothing.»
Outside, twilight was deepening, and the car was sinking into semi-darkness, lit only by the soft light of night lamps. Most passengers had already fallen asleep, but Valeriy and Tamara still continued their conversation, lowering their voices to a barely audible whisper.
«You know,» he said, stirring sugar into his fourth cup of tea, «I used to be a real book lover. Especially attracted to stories of travel and adventure.»
«And what changed?» Tamara leaned in closer, observing his face attentively.
«Life took over. Work, family duties, financial obligations… Books took a back seat.»
«And now, when your family is no longer waiting for you?»
«Now…» he stumbled, as if searching for the right words. «Honestly, I don’t really feel like it. On the shift, we spend time watching TV shows or playing cards…»
«Scary?» she suddenly asked.
«Scared of what?»
«Being alone with yourself. Because a book is just you and your thoughts, nothing else to distract you.»
Valeriy felt a growing irritation inside: «What, you decided to be my psychologist? Thinking of healing my soul?»
«No,» Tamara shook her head. «Just noticing a person who’s trapped himself in a cage and is afraid to step out.»
«Who are you to judge me?» he raised his voice, and someone above stirred discontentedly. «You think because you read ‘smart’ books, you become an expert on other people’s lives?»
«I see that you’re upset,» she responded, maintaining her composure. «And you know why? Because I’m right.»
«Enough!» Valeriy stood up sharply. «Thanks for the tea, but I think I’ll go to sleep.»
«Of course,» she nodded, also rising. «Run away. That’s your forte, isn’t it?»
He froze in place: «What did you say?»
«What you heard. You always run away from anything that might deeply touch you. From family—to remote work, from loneliness—to entertainment, from conversation—to sleep…»
«How dare you!» he loomed over her, trying to appear more threatening. «You… you…»
«What?» she looked up at him, but at that moment, it seemed as if she stood taller. «Go on.»
«You’re just a lonely middle-aged woman who sticks her nose where it doesn’t belong!» he blurted out.
The car fell into such silence that the sound of dripping water could be heard. Tamara slowly sat back down: «Now everything is clear. Good night, Valeriy.»
He stood still for a few more seconds, feeling his cheeks burn with shame and anger, then silently returned to his berth. But sleep did not come—he tossed and turned all night, going over every phrase of their dialogue, as if trying to find some hidden meaning.
When dawn broke, Tamara gathered her personal items and moved to the opposite end of the car. Valeriy grimly watched her departure, struggling with an inner urge to follow her and apologize. But his pride prevailed.
In Yaroslavl, she left the train without turning her head his way. Only then did he notice a worn copy of Exupéry’s «The Little Prince» left on the table. Opening the book, Valeriy found a note tucked between the pages:
«When you decide to leave your prison—call me. T.»
And a phone number followed.
Three months later, Valeriy stood at the entrance to the library, tightly holding that same worn volume. These three months on the shift were filled not only with endless work but also with reading. He had read «The Little Prince» seven times, finding new meanings each time.
Through the glass doors, he saw the familiar figure in the gray suit. Tamara was explaining something to a young woman, pointing to the shelves. His heart thudded in his chest.
«Hello,» he said in a hoarse voice. «I’ve come to return the book…»
Tamara slowly turned around. Surprise flickered across her face: «You finally decided to come.»
«It’s been three months. I’ve done a lot of thinking.»
«And what did you manage to understand?» She moved to her desk, gesturing for him to follow.
«You were right about my cage,» he placed the book on the desk. «I really was always running. From myself, from real life…»
«And what’s changed now?» she asked, sitting down and crossing her arms in front of her.
«I realized I’m tired of constantly running. I want… I want to start living a full life.»
«Is that why you came to Yaroslavl?»
«That’s why I called and found a job at a local factory,» he sighed deeply. «I left the calculations at the drilling rig.»
Tamara abruptly stood up: «What have you done? How could you make such a decision without…»
«Without consulting you?» he interrupted. «Why should I? You said I needed to get out of that cage. So I did.»
«That’s madness!» she exclaimed, lowering her voice not to attract the attention of the readers. «You gave up stable work for… for what?»
«For hope,» he simply replied. «For a chance to find happiness. For you.»
«No,» Tamara shook her head. «No-no-no. I can’t take that kind of responsibility. You need to go back immediately and…»
«And what? Continue existing instead of living?» he stepped forward. «You know what I realized over these three months? The scariest prison is our own fears. I was afraid of change, and you’re afraid of your feelings.»
«Enough!» she almost shouted. «You have no right to speak like that…»
«I do. Because I’m deeply attached to you.»
A year later, in a small but cozy apartment on the outskirts of Yaroslavl, a soft light warmed the room. Two cups of steaming tea sat on the table, and Tamara’s favorite carnations adorned a vase.
«Imagine,» she shared with a smile, «my grandson asked today why grandma always glows from the inside.» «And what did you explain?» Valeriy tenderly embraced her shoulders. «I said it’s because I feel incredibly happy.» He gently kissed her temple: «Remember how you pushed me away? ‘Madness,’ ‘recklessness’…» «Yes, I remember,» she sighed. «I was really scared. Afraid that you were just having fun and would disappear.» «And I was worried that you wouldn’t trust me.»
«You know,» Tamara turned to face him, «even then, on the train, I realized—you’re not like everyone else. Just lost, searching for your path.» «And you found me,» he smiled. «And helped me escape from the tangled labyrinth.» Snow slowly descended outside, covering the city with a fluffy white blanket. On the shelf among other editions sat the worn copy of «The Little Prince»—their special symbol. It was a story about how important it is to meet someone who can help overcome fears and break down the wall of loneliness.
They were silent, enjoying the quiet ticking of the clock and the rustle of falling snowflakes. Sometimes words are unnecessary—just being close, feeling each other’s warmth, and knowing that, finally, you’ve found a place where you can be yourself. Not in terms of physical space, but in terms of the person next to whom you can fully open up, without masks, without escapes, without fears.
Tamara quietly hummed a favorite tune, flipping through the pages of a new book. Valeriy watched her and thought that sometimes fate creates remarkable coincidences exactly when they are most needed. And that true love can sprout at any age—the main thing is to be ready to open your heart.
