I have a lot of stories about trains. There are people that you’ve never met before, but for a brief time you are intrinsically connected.

I was with a friend on a train from London to Brighton, and we had nothing to say because we were bored with each other.

It was late on Saturday, and at that moment, Fatboy Slim was performing on Brighton Beach and 400,000 people had turned up and caused mayhem.

But this train was strangely quiet.

I stared through the window at blackness and saw nothing.

But I did see something.

It was the reflection of a boy, sat a few seats further forward, staring at darkness just like me.

Lost in his thoughts and dreams, I supposed he lived an incredibly exciting life.

I watched him far too long.

Then he suddenly smiled, and I smiled back, and for that passing moment I believed we were lovers.