She stood there, face angled toward the monitor, waiting in silence for the platform number to appear. In one hand rolled back and forth the handle of her traveled suitcase – in the other her purse. And she had wide country eyes, and lips that turned up more than down, and a neck slender and porcelain. And as we both looked away from the screen our eyes met, and we held each other so for but a moment, warmly – as if there was recognition in those ten feet between.
We shared a smile – just a sliver of one, fleeting. Then 23 flashed bright and beckoning and we looked at the train, and turned toward the things we were certain of.
And though I’ve never seen this woman before, and never will again, I can’t help but wonder if – in some parallel reality on another platform in time – we had known each other well.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
was she hot?
Post a Comment