Train Strain

Sitting on the train, a woman boards, we make eye contact and she takes a seat opposite me. We look away, the train pulls away, I think of what to say. The train slows to a speed, we flee the city to the town. I wait for my moment, the opportunity to knock. She drops her paper. Purposefully I think. Here’s the moment to seize, the chance to grab. I weigh up the pros and cons. And then she cuts through my procrastinations as she deftly swoops down and plucks the stranded sheets from the floor. Hmm. That didn’t go quite to plan. I attempt eye contact once more. The reception is noticably frosty.