A Fleeting Moment

She steps off of the platform and into the crowded train. She keeps her bag tucked closely at her side as the ocean of people eager to get home all crowd into the car. Her shoulders bump against the older man’s next to her as she searches for a handle or pole to hold onto, without luck. She steadies herself, bracing for the train’s movement.

She makes herself as comfortable as she can on the long train ride. Impatiently waiting to get out of the car and back onto the street where she can finally breathe.

The train slows down at its next stop. The loud, screeching breaks leaving her indifferent to the stop, It’s not hers, so of course she doesn’t care.

“Oh, excuse me.” A masculine voice on the other side of the car catches her attention and she looks in the direction of the sound.

A balding, middle-aged man slides past another younger man and stands next to him. She watches the incident closely for no real reason, when his eyes meet hers.

Who knows how long the stranger had been looking her way, but now that their eyes had met, she couldn’t look away.

He has delicate, handsome features, piercing blue eyes that seem to only see her, and sandy blonde hair combed neatly away from his forehead. He sends her a flirty grin that sets her cheeks aflame. She can’t look away. She doesn’t want to. She likes the way he looks at her. The way his eyes feel as they study her features, She wants him to come closer, if only the car was easier to move through.

The rest of the ride goes by too quickly. Their eyes never looking away as they watch each other in comfortable silence. Only flirtatious smiles and expressive conversation exchanged.

She looks up at the sign that displays her stop and then looks back at him. She uses her head to motion for him to step off when the train stops and he nods in response.

Her heart pounds as the seconds tick by. Will he follow? The thought sends equal parts excitement and dread coursing through her. This could be her fairytale—or a fleeting, missed connection. She clings to the hope of the former.

The people bustle out of the car and onto the platform, going their own ways. She steps out of the train, not going very far, waiting for a glimpse of him through the crowd of people.

A hard shoulder bump causes her gaze to faulter as the woman who ran into her apologizes. She sends the woman away with a smile when a gentler tap turns her head back around.

There he is, a delighted smile spread across his thin lips. “I’m glad you made it.”

©️T.L. Ryan 2024. All rights reserved.