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Oh, subway fantasies
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He wore black framed glasses and spiky blonde hair. He kept leaning forward and around people to take a peek at what subway stop we were reaching. "Talk to me," I thought. I thought hard. I tried telepathy. I tried standing a bit closer. His angular features, suit and overcoat were austere but tempting. "Ask me a question!" I tried.
We exited the train at W. 4th Street (and no, I wasn't stalking him.) He turned left, then quickly decided on right, which I was already headed for. We were both transferring trains, and miraculously, we ended up on the same car. How often does that happen? Identical car to car transition?
He looked so intense, too. Perhaps he's from out of town, and he was apprehensive about getting lost. He left the train one stop before mine, and he left me on his wingtip shoes.
