The Stranger Who Knew My Name

When I boarded the late-night train that evening, the car was almost empty — just a few tired faces buried in their phones. I sank into a seat by the window, clutching my worn-out backpack, ready for another mindless ride home.

As the train shuddered and lurched forward, I felt someone sit across from me. I glanced up.

It was an old man, maybe in his seventies. He wore a dusty brown coat, and his silver hair was tucked neatly under a faded cap. His eyes, though, were sharp — too sharp for someone his age.

I tried to ignore him. I wasn't in the mood for conversations. But then he said it.

"You shouldn't be afraid to chase what you love, Emily."

I froze.

My name is Emily.

But I had never seen him before in my life.

I laughed awkwardly. "Do I know you?" I asked.

The man just smiled.

"Not yet," he said.

The rest of the ride, I couldn't concentrate. His words kept circling in my mind.

Chase what you love.

But how did he know?

He didn't speak again until my stop approached. As the train slowed down, he leaned closer and whispered,

"The universe speaks to those who listen. Listen carefully, Emily. Time is a thief."

And then —

Before I could ask him anything, he stood up, stepped into the next car, and disappeared.

Just like that.

Gone.

I ran to the next car — empty.

No one had seen him. No one remembered him.

That night, I didn't sleep.

Instead, I opened my laptop and stared at the half-written novel I had abandoned months ago — the novel I had been too scared to finish because I was afraid no one would care.

His words echoed in my mind:

"Time is a thief."

Maybe... Maybe I had already lost too much to fear.

At 3:27 a.m., I started typing.

And for the first time in years, I felt alive.

A Year Later

My book is now published.

It’s not a bestseller — not yet.

But I have readers. Real readers.

People who write to me, telling me my words made them cry, made them dream again.

Sometimes, late at night, I take the same train ride, hoping to see the old man again.

I never do.

But maybe he wasn't just a man.

Maybe he was a whisper from the universe, dressed in a dusty brown coat.

And maybe, just maybe, the universe is whispering to you too.

Are you listening?

The End.