It was late, we were alone in the last train. Patiently I watched you as you checked your messages: I admired the way you kept going, as if everything was normal. We were going home, I knew you’d attempt to make peace, perhaps more.
I was a little bemused, hesitant maybe, after all, soon I would leave this silly substitute shape for a human body, and become again the woman I was, always were.
But you, my dear, my sweet sister, could you still be the friend I wanted? Or would you become jealous, envious of the looks of others, the preying eyes? Could you adapt to being what I was now? Of course I would make it as comfortable and cosy as I could…
I would take care of you, keep you dressed, and clean, always close to me.
As we were now, on that lonely train, soon home.