I watched the doors close from the top of the stairs. The next train was in three hours, and I was furious for about ten minutes.
Then I sat down on a bench outside the station next to an old man smoking slowly and watching the square. We talked for most of the three hours.
Detours
He told me about the town as it had been fifty years ago, which shops were new, which families had left. He did not ask anything of me except that I listen.
I have missed trains since and still get annoyed. But some part of me now wonders who is waiting on the bench outside.