I ran as fast as I could…and then some more. There was no way I could miss my 2.40 again. Whizzing past the calm and the tranquil, I must have aroused a lot of curiosity; but for the first time in my life I was excited about somebody other than me. My eyes scanned the empty compartments to find one that fit the bill – the one with him inside. I wiped sweaty hands on my denims and hoped the stains would disappear quietly in the indigo, just like I faded in the background to study him better.
My fingers itched to trace the lines across his ripped stomach and learn biology first hand. The peaks and valleys of his biceps had me clenching my fists tightly, hoping that the half-moon marks that were left behind wouldn’t draw a squeak from me. It was unbelievable that he evoked the same response from me every time since I had first seen him a month ago; and he had never even glanced my way. I liked his hard-to-get attitude, it was such a rarity.
I had another twenty minutes in which to gobble him up. Sometimes I questioned my wisdom in maintaining my silence when I could have done much to remedy the situation. Then every time I opened my mouth, I found myself gulping air quickly like a lost little goldfish. It was better to be a silent presence till he chose to miss my absence. I settled down more comfortably in my seat and proceeded to give him “the stare” from behind the protection of dark shades. It was only when he got off at the next station that the woman next to me nudged me awake from my reverie.
“My dear, he was born blind from birth but can see more than you could ever know. Love him for who he is and not what you think he could be, and maybe he will love you back.”
Written for Michelle’s Photo Fiction #60