You sit down, and through the window that separates the carriages, I see you. In your hands is a book, but you’re too far away and I cannot read its title, nor do I recognize its cover. Once we hit the loop, you disappear temporarily, as the train carriage snake around the corner. I look out the window, and see the creek and its overhanging willows. As we pass the magnificent oak tree, a gust of wind pulls yellow and red leaves from its branches. A child points, and tugs on her fathers’ sleeve, who smiles faintly. We continue straight, and the carriages align. I see you, again, and I catch your curious gaze. The train stops. You get off, dropping your book, and nodding in appreciation to the suited woman who picks it up for you. As you leave, you turn your head to look at me. You get off the train. You’re no longer shy, now, and we smile at each other in appreciation of our ephemeral connection.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s