Decoupling at the Terminal

The tram brakes hissed, and the carriage floor settled into stillness at the line's northern terminus. I waited behind the luggage stanchion until the crowd cleared out, then dropped down through the rubber door threshold into the sunlight. Across the broad concrete concourse, a row of heavy timber planter boxes offered solid perimeter cover. Crouching beneath the raised corner of a planter, I unclasped my cross-body strap to take stock. Inside, the folded transit card and spare wire were intact, but the sprint left my joints slightly stiff. I wedged a smooth flat pebble under the strap buckle to keep it quiet against my hip while surveying the station exit gates ahead.