Standing, waiting, starring in the air; thinking of my next story of a girl. Who sits on the chair in the train station, waiting for the train to come. I never looked at her; I was too busy of thinking if she’d think I am weird. So I use an ipod as a mirror to see. She never raises her head, is she sleeping? No, I think not. What is she thinking? What is it about the floor that is so interesting, she stares at them every time.
A second, a minute, perhaps an hour passed. The train came, I lead myself to the door, you walked in from another door.
We may never meet, maybe.
One day, she raised your head. Walked to me and stood beside me. I was amazed yet I showed it on my face. I peeked at you quickly; you caught me and peeked back.
We entered the same door.
Set together.
Stared at the window in front of us.
Every second of your face was captured in the window. I stamped every of your blinks and expression of you in my head. The city behind you, faded in and out. This city, and you; are beautiful. That journey, I am happy.
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