She

We’re on a subway train.

Her eyes meet mine, and I greet hers with a mild countenance and perhaps a small smile. I can’t tell if its there. It is a quick reflex; not the most noticeable but neither all that regrettable.

Her bright blue gems have caught hold of me. They remind me of the ocean and lure me irresistibly like the dazzling summer’s sky. My mouth draws slightly agape to resuscitate my mind to consciousness. I didn’t want to look away.

Had she noticed the gesture? Would she return it? Was she the type who would talk to strangers? I wanted to know. Maybe she’d laugh. That wouldn’t be too bad.

She smiles.

My heart turns into a bright little red balloon, floating insouciantly in the air with blithe ignorance to the world.

I begin to wonder if we should start a conversation, and if we would ever meet again somewhere.

Maybe I’d go forward and ask her where she’s stopping, and if she takes the train often. Maybe she’d reply in a sweet voice that would take me to the clouds, and up there, I’d ask her to join me. We would board the train up in the air and cruise high above the busy city and feel free and alive and bursting with vivid ecstasy.

Maybe we’d even fall in love.

After the twists and turns through the clouds the train would slow and stop outside her place. I would stand at the doors and watch her leave, and whisper a goodbye through the frosty glass. Without looking back, she would open the gate and stroll up the porch where someone would be waiting. She would get smaller and smaller, until in the distance, she vanishes before my eyes.

She looks away.

We’ll probably never meet again.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/12/02/weekly-writing-challenge-snapshots/

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2 thoughts on “She

  1. Pingback: Cheerful, Isolated Harmony [FLASH FICTION] | Ramisa the Authoress

  2. It’s interesting how daily commutes leave us thinking and so many untold stories happen in the random encounters, where people don’t even have an idea that they are a part of someone’s story..

    Like

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