She stood up, smiled and waved goodbye. I wanted to keep her from leaving, to grab her hand, and hold her glance for hours. But how could I? This could be that one and last time. I mean, what are the chances? How big are the odds? That we’d be in this same situation, be on the same train, at the same time,
In my head, I have conceptualized the perfect plan to suspend seconds in order to spend a few more moments with her. But people looked at us—me, in particular—as if they hear my useless thoughts, my hapless daydreams. I felt shy and awkward and it’s a total bull ’cause why do I care what others think, really? So what if a perfectly beautiful woman talks to the plainest, most underachieved John Doe?
But the door flung open and she had let go of the hand rail.
There goes the girl who said hi to a stranger. Out of nowhere, so very random, completely unexpected. And we talked like old friends who share gazillions of things in common. We laughed, and looked at each other all the while. I swear, there were little fluttering sparkles in her eyes and I felt like there were stars in my own eyes too. It was as if roses or clouds surrounded us; not people packed in a moving vehicle. It didn’t seem like the subway around us. Those few minutes must have transpired only in my imaginings. The earlier scenes couldn’t have been a part of my normal, mundane life. Just my luck and now my loss.
Good bye, my 20-minute subway love affair. Why did I fail to ask for your name and number???