Lost: Dagmar

Berlin? No. Hamburg? Perhaps.

The mother whispered, "Shh. She's lost." Dagmar Lost

But somewhere between the last divorce and this morning, Dagmar had learned to un-find herself. Berlin

The train hissed steam into the gray afternoon. Other passengers moved with purpose—mothers gripping children, businessmen adjusting cufflinks, lovers stealing last kisses. Dagmar simply stood, a comma in the wrong sentence. businessmen adjusting cufflinks

She stepped onto the train without checking the destination board. The carriage smelled of worn velvet and someone else's coffee. She chose a window seat facing backward—because forward seemed too much like lying.