Observations on a train III. She’s beautiful, and has a dark sort of intelligence in her eyes. She should be a controlled substance. She’s across the train but glances over at me at precisely the same second Freddie sings “I’ve fallen in love” in my ear. He’s wearing a kind face and a white vest and and reading the contents of cheap looking wallets before emptying them into a huge black garbage bag. She’s wearing boots taller than me and they scare me. He’s still fighting with his garbage bag. And losing. Never mind, it gave him apple sauce. Or tuna. Regardless, it appears to be frozen, but he’s still licking his fingers. I get the women who have light colored fingernails besides for one dark one, but this girl’s is all black besides for one very light blue one on her ring finger. He gets on the train, gets off, then gets on again before the doors close. I admire his speed and sympathize with his confusion. The graffiti flashing by the window makes me wonder if the artist ever saw it the way I am now. He’s reading a bright orange pasta menu and licking his lips. She sits in a way I can only describe as grace. I will never understand the little brown bags that say little brown bag. Two women pass by; one wears a dark cap with pigtails and the other’s cap just has black tassels that look like pigtails. It’s confusing. We pass by a moving train and I like the way it makes me feel like I’m moving simultaneously I’m opposing directioms. Her glasses match her hoodie and makes me wonder how she does that every day. He’s carrying a well worn briefcase, and suddenly gets a constipated look on his face the second he looks at his phone. I look around at all the faces and it suddenly occurs to me that this train may be full, but it’s the thoughts that take up all the space."
A macro shot of the human eye. The arterioles appear like the branches of trees in a forest.