CREDITS:

Story by talitavasconcelos

Traduction by Gabriela Silva

 By Chance... I was there alone, sitting by the window of the almost empty train, completely engrossed in reading a book. And then you entered. You seemed tired; you took off your backpack and sat in the first empty seat you found – just by chance – facing me. I think I hardly noticed your presence until I heard you sigh, glancing absentmindedly at the cover of my book, and saying, half-asleep, that the couple would end up together in the end. I laughed... Although the title was suggestive, I wasn't reading a romance novel.

But then, by chance again, when I was about to say something about it not being polite to reveal the ending to someone who is still reading the book, the train jolted, causing me to lurch forward, and my book fell into your lap. You confiscated it, smiling, and only gave it back when we reached my stop, but not before slipping a card with your phone number inside.

I never intended to call, after all, you were a strange guy who practically hijacked my book on the train, insisting on talking, and even pretended to know the ending of a story I'm certain you had never heard of.

But then, by chance, once again, we met again, this time in a crowded train car, and while the crowd pushed my body against yours, you asked me if I was almost done with the book. I thought you were crazy, and I don't know why I kept paying attention to what you were saying, but your sweet and sincere way of looking at me slowly broke down all my defenses.

So, by chance, there I was, agreeing to have coffee with you; and then a movie; and then dinner; and before I knew it, having coffee with you became breakfast; the window I looked out of was the one in our room; and there was no longer an empty seat beside me on the train. Because I discovered in your completely clumsy way of approaching, the first lines of a romance that only chance itself could create.

Because, who else, but chance, could put in my path (twice!) a guy who, at first glance, wasn't even my type, but who, by chance, was exactly what I needed?

And then, suddenly, from the girl who was reading alone during a routine train ride, I became one half of us; part of a story that was being written by chance. And chance, perhaps, is actually a pseudonym that fate uses when it wants to remain anonymous and accomplish the unimaginable.

And so, one day, by chance, I realized that you were right from the beginning: I wouldn't need to read the book until the end, because I was certain that the couple would never part again.