I was on my way home.
I made the venture into town to see a girl and she indirectly, yet clearly, reaffirmed that she was only interested in my friendship. Some dude she knew that showed up only exasperated the situation. Anyway, I decided to go home rather than insert myself among the general public any longer. I would feel less alone if I was actually alone than among a group who seemed content to live lives void of both reflection and my company. I also wasn’t exactly invited anywhere else.
I got a side seat on the train and a cute girl was in the corresponding seat across the aisle. I knew that that is about as far as train relationships go. Japanese people don’t seem to take well to foreign strangers on the train in my experience.
An old man sat next to me, and like most of the other passengers, quickly fell asleep. As he drifted from resting on and off my shoulder, the girl across from me noticed, and we shared a few smiles. We had a little thing going. I could tell by how she was preparing her bag that we wouldn’t be getting off at the same stop. Our smiles grew as the old man rested on my shoulder, and my heart shrank. As she got off the train, we waved to each other, cherishing our shared moment, hoping that our paths would cross again someday.
These days, I’m just tellin’ stories.
*this story was originally published in Sky Puddle