I've been travelling on the train and tram to work, since around-about last Summer. Even hopping on just once or twice a week, you see it all. The kooky, bizarre, sad, pathetic, cute, joyful, and everything else in between. This is the first of an ongoing train serial I'd like to explore, based on my commuting experiences. So here you go.
She sits, head resting against the window. Gazing out at the passing sights, whirring past like a theme park ride, she appears to be looking, while not actually looking at anything. Her eyes reflect back the passing scenery: trees, buildings, cars - and it seems that you cannot actually gain an insight into her soul.
She sits, motionless, still. Passengers come on and off the train, and if it weren't for her occasional blinking, you would not think of her as conscious of anything around her at all.
Her bag sits on her lap, her arms resting softly yet securely on her bag. Although her demeanour is unassuming, her arms lie on her bag quite purposefully, and their intention is clear - to protect.
Her brown hair softly frames her face, not quite concealing the ipod earphones she has attached. Suddenly, she sits up. Her eyes glimmer, shine, as they continue their watchless stare out the window. For an instant, it is almost as if you can see through, into her eyes. Like trying to catch a glimpse of a fish beneath water, in the stony waters of her eyes, is a faint, muddled moment of happiness, of pleasure.
The train continues its monotonous trek into the city, swaying commuters within it from side to side. All across the carriage, rocked from left to right, the travellers are swayed like blades of grass blowing in the wind. Including her.
However, there seems to be a bit more sway to her stance. As the train launches her left, she moves left, lingering ever so slightly in that direction, before the unavoidable gravity launches her at once to the right, where again she lingers, before it all begins again. It is as if she is performing a dance, moving from side to side. And she seems to be enjoying all the motion.
When the train reaches yet another stop, the swaying ceases. Reluctantly, she rests her head once again against the window. Her eyes turn glassy, and at once, reflect the outside world and all the morning peak hour travellers within it.
As the train lumbers forward once again, now carrying even more passengers, with all their daily dreams, aspirations, hidden fears and past disappointments, her eyes begin to clear. The reflective gaze dissolves. A warmth begins to brew, and a soft smile hints at her lips. Guitar rifts float over from her ipod, and she closes her eyes ever so slowly, as the familiar Guns n' Roses song begins.
Though her eyes remain closed, her eyelids softly flutter; what could she be thinking? What place has she just been transported to, a place filled with such memory and experience that it has wavered her stone facade ever so slightly?
Soon, her eyes open. The music slowly recedes, to nothing. She warily glances up around her. She removes her earphones, packs it away, and hangs her handbag on her shoulder.
She has reached her destination. She walks out of the train.
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