“Sometimes, paths cross sooner than one may expect.”

The train couldn’t depart sooner, could it?

Stella sprinted through the Kufstein train station, dodging people like a professional alpine skier, her trench coat flying behind her. She was already damp from the spring rain, which had caught her off guard; she couldn’t miss this train, too. Breathing hard, she finally reached her platform, and, making a mental note to bicycle more often, jumped into the vehicle. Not three minutes after she leaned against the wall, the train departed. She made it just in time. Thank You, God.

It was eight in the morning, and Stella was already exhausted. She needed to sit down and catch her breath. And maybe a nap as well. But when she saw the full compartments as she passed by, her optimism hobbled. Stella meandered through the packed train until she finally found an empty one. She couldn’t suppress her quiet cheer as she hopped inside and plumped down on the window seat.

Stella fished her laptop out of her bag and placed it on the tiny folding table. She still had much to do before she would get off the train in Vienna. She’d finally received an invitation for a job interview in one of the magazine companies she had been eyeing for months. Even though she was excited, stress was eating away at her. She had prayed in the morning for an extra dose of courage. The managing editor and leader of the interview had already contacted her about the details. But though she had already googled him up, she couldn’t find any photo of him, which doubled her nervousness.

She put on her headphones and looked out the window at the lovely scenery of hills, traditional Austrian houses, and sometimes, her eyes caught a herd of cows. After a while of getting lost in the rush of the land outside, she concentrated on her tasks.

Only the announcement of the next station caught her attention.

Salzburg.

Alright, only a bit more than two hours left. Stella changed her laptop for a book and didn’t pay heed to the people walking by her compartment, until she heard the door slide open, and a man in a blue suit peeked inside.

“Excuse me, may I sit here?” he asked.

“Yes, yes, of course.” Stella smiled and gathered her things.

“Thank you.” He took the middle seat opposite her and checked his phone while Stella returned to the story in front of her. Comfortable silence reigned in the compartment, and Stella had nearly forgotten the fellow, when he suddenly spoke out, “What have you already read by Tolkien?”

She startled. “What? Um…” Stella looked at the cover of her book, which read The Return of the King. “The Hobbit, The Fellowship of the Ring and The Two Towers. What about you?”

“I’ve read it all, but The Silmarillion still waits for its moment,” he grinned.

Stella nodded compassionately. “Yup, get it. When I was a kid, I stopped reading after a few chapters. But it was probably because I didn’t understand all his books until I was older.”

The stranger nodded thoughtfully. “Many stories carry hidden messages that one can decipher only as a more mature person.”

Stella looked him up and down. He seemed pretty knowledgeable about books.

“Is Frodo still away from the fellowship?” he asked while pointing at her book.

Stella nodded sadly. “Yes. I cannot wait for them to be reunited again; it feels too long.”

Thomas hummed, “Sometimes, paths cross sooner than one may expect.”

Well, maybe he’s right. “What do you usually read?” asked Stella before she could stop herself.

“Remarque is my favourite, but all the classic literature. Sometimes, however, sci-fi catches my eye. What do you read beside Tolkien?” he smirked.

“Fiction. But I’m slowly finding joy in reading the classics, too. Particularly Shakespeare.”

He laughed. “You like drama, huh?”

She rolled her eyes, humoured. “It’s not that. I like how he manages to write in such a way that he hooks you by the first chapter.”

“Valid.” They kept quiet for a moment. There was something friendly about him. And Stella really appreciated that he actually knew literature and clearly enjoyed reading.

“By the way, I’m Thomas.” He extended his hand to her with a warm smile.

She shook his hand. “I’m Stella. Nice to meet you.”

Thomas leaned back, eyeing her. “So, where are you heading, Stella?”

“To Vienna. And you?”

“Me too. All roads lead to Vienna, it seems,” he joked.

They spent the majority of their time talking about Jules Verne and the Brönte sisters. Stella could talk with him about any book, and he would never sit there like a lost hamster.

Suddenly, Vienna was announced as the next station, which changed the course of their debate.

“And what brings you to Vienna?” wondered Thomas.

Stella shrugged. “I’ve been working in a library, but I strive to write more. And now, I have a job opportunity.”

Thomas nodded. “Have you thought of journalism?”

“Yes. Actually, a magazine company invited me.”

To Stella’s surprise, Thomas straightened, excited. “I’m working in that sector. If you need any assistance, feel free to contact me. I’m happy to help however I can.”

Stella needed a little time to process his openness for cooperation. “Thank you, that would be great,” she smiled.

Thomas adjusted his glasses. “If you wish, I could give you my number.”

“Yes, yes, that would be great.” She gave him her phone, glad for any help or a tip. After he typed his number, Stella joked, “Thomas the train journalist is a fitting name, don’t you think?”

“Absolutely. Have you worked as a journalist already?”

“Nope. Well, not seriously. But as a student, I used to write for our student faculty magazine.”

“Interesting. And what did you study?”

“History.”

“And you find that journalism might fit you better?”

Stella grimaced. “I feel like it’s time to work more creatively.”

They continued their debate about writing. Thomas gave away that he’d studied literature. However, he had then decided to help other writers and journalists improve their writing. He was an editor, though sometimes, he managed to land a column for himself.

As they were arriving at the train station, Thomas smiled kindly. “Then I wish you success. But as I heard you talk about books and writing, you will be fine.” He winked.

Stella returned his smile. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

But where was he working? For which magazine?

Although, when Stella wanted to ask about it, his phone rang. “Sorry, I have to take it. Hi, Franz! I was wondering when you would reach out…”

Yup, not the right moment. And the train had already finished its trip, and so she would go. Thomas was still calling with Franz when Stella waved him goodbye and left the compartment.

While in the Viennese U-Bahn, Stella ceased to think of her meeting with Thomas and concentrated on the interview at hand. But still, she thanked God for her train companion, because it was a great encouragement for her. Suddenly, the job interview wasn’t so spooky anymore.

When she reached her final destination, Stella was ready to face the managing editor. She announced her arrival and waited until they called her into a light office. “Mr Schmidt will be there in a minute,” the secretary told her and scurried away.

Professionalism, Stella. Professionalism!

Stella squared her shoulders when she heard his footsteps and plastered a smile on her face. The door opened and…

“No way.”

Stella stared at the managing editor. Stared at his blue suit and glasses on his nose. “Mr Schmidt?”

Thomas nodded wide-eyed, realisation dawning on him. “And you are Stella Mayer, the job applicant.”

“It seems so.”

What was she supposed to do now? Oh no, she talked nearly the entire journey to someone who would decide if she was the right one for the magazine house or not. Oh no.

God indeed knew what He was doing. As she had been afraid to meet Thomas Schmidt in a job interview, He smuggled him into her life in a different way.

Thomas cleared his throat and motioned for her to take the chair. A whisper of smile crossed his face. “So, you’ve already informed me of your affinity for journalism and literature while we were undercover.” He simpered at that, as did Stella. “But we will have to discuss it a bit more in detail.”

“Of course, Thom—Mr Schmidt.”

He huffed out a laugh. “Funny how I found myself in the same room as you again. And without knowing who you really are, Stella Mayer.”

Stella laughed out loud. “Sometimes, paths cross sooner than one may expect, Thomas Schmidt.”