Unwanted

The cold whipped around him as the train came to a halt. He shivered as he watched just one person get off the last carriage. It was getting late. Maybe he should head home. Yes, he thought, yes I'll go. He'd been out long enough. He didn't like the look this man was giving him. He shook the can in his hand nervously, listening to the remaining liquid splash up against the sides. It occured to him the man in his forties wasn't heading for the exit, but instead towards him. He quickly dropped his gaze. It was late. Too late. Too late to be here, to late to pretend he hadn't noticed. He sat frozen on the spot as the man approach him, and began his first greeting. The first of many unwanted greetings.

[135 words]