The delivery truck was cramped. Two seats, a faint smell of air conditioning and sweat lingering in the upholstery. He wasn’t used to having passengers during his usual routes, but she made it easy enough. She chatted as he drove, light banter about small things—shops, favorite cafes, music. It was odd how easily she slipped into this casual rhythm with him, as if he’d known her forever.

  And maybe he had.

  The ride was short, just a few turns and a stop at her destination. She gave him a wave as she stepped out, confident and cheerful, as though nothing had happened at all. He shook his head as he pulled away from the curb.

  People like that always seemed to have that kind of effect on him. Easy confidence, easy charm. Nothing about her felt particularly special, but he couldn’t shake the thought that he’d encounter her again soon. By the time he parked his truck back in the driveway at the end of the day, the sun was already sinking into the horizon. His legs felt too heavy to walk, his muscles screamed, but he gritted his teeth and forced himself to his apartment.

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  The day felt like a blur as he struggled into his small living room, turned on the TV for some noise, and collapsed on his couch. The hours passed quickly—showers, eating, and zoning out in front of random shows. His head swam with the memories of his work, of her smile at the gas station, and of the little patterns in his life that always felt like they meant nothing.

  He went to bed late that night. His body was dead tired, his mind swimming with nothing in particular, and he welcomed the stillness of his room as his eyelids closed.

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