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Archive for August 18th, 2014

He didn’t bat an eye when it brushed against the top of his leg.  Gently moving from the fabric of his shorts to the skin just above the knee.  I watched it as it danced lightly across both surfaces.  

He boarded the train at the stop after I did and sat directly across from me.  No headphones.  No reading material save for the screen of his phone.  Uncharacteristic for a man of his age at this time of day.  Slender.  Plaid shorts.  A red v-neck t-shirt.  His tanned skin was the same color in all locations, including his head – which had been shaved a couple of days earlier.  He sat quietly with his thoughts.

At Belmont the train filled to standing room only.  A young man boarded caring a backpack.  Before grasping reaching up for the standee bar, he hoisted his backpack into place.  This action blocked my view of the seated man I’d been watching.  

When the train arrived at Fullerton the train filled even more.  The young man moved inwards and with that my view of the seated man returned.  The backpack now perched directly above the seated man’s lap.  As the train swayed to and fro the nylon straps of the young man’s backpack hung like tendrils over the seated man’s legs, fluttering as delicately as an aphid over a patch of clover.  

I looked at the face of the seated man expecting to see expressions of disapproval.  There were none.  The sensation, which could surely be felt, was either something he expected or something for which he longed.  An expression of bliss would have been inappropriate even if it had gone unseen.

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