Alight

My tired eyes gaze at our reflection in the window of the underground carriage as it glides through the darkened tunnels. She lays her head on my shoulder and I watch as her eyelids grow heavy and slowly close. Her light breathing becomes rhythmic as she drifts to sleep; my eyes are averted for a moment from our image in the rain-dappled window, to search the cavernous carriage of the last train. My attention is drawn to the only other passenger - a drunk, slumped over himself, simultaneously dribbling and muttering incoherently. Her phone lies -periously close to falling - in her limp hand. I reach over to it, knowing that this time she was in a far deeper sleep than she was during my last attempt. My fast fingers scour her contact list until they land upon his name; I text his number to my phone and swiftly replace the handset where I found it before nudging her awake to alight the train.