The Girl On The Train.

26th February at 10:20AM.

Today was different.

This morning was different.

But I knew exactly why, it was because it was Friday.

It was quite funny to observe, mostly because it was rather impressive how much the day had a physical impact on the commuters. Some how talking on the phone for a couple more minutes was worth it; but the overwhelming difference was that the people beside me were doing it with a smile.

That was always wonderful to see, I found people simply didn't smile enough these days...happiness was difficult to find reason with.

But ironically, she wasn't all happiness...mainly because the man beside her was some one she went to her first high school with.

 It wasn't as frightening as it once was, but of course the moment triggers memories; some she never wished to remember. 

But then to have something to remember is a miracle in it self compared to some people. However in this situation, it is better to have pain; lack of experience would clearly mean not knowing the opposite, and who could really live without happiness? 

So although this memory would particularly lay dull, looking outside and seeing that the sky wasn't the usual charcoal black was almost something that lifted her. It was a sign that indicated Spring; the time where the earth would change again and the scene around us would almost astonish me as it always did, because it was change in only a small period of time... Or truthfully was it?

**

12th February at 9:42AM.

Those were the kind of mornings she deeply desired; not the ones at home where only silence would hit her ears but more so, the smell of coffee on the morning train.

Where those around her weren’t quite set in reality; some were even still dosing off into a land they wish they still were in. 

But for her? No, she couldn’t be more alert despite the early morning still hanging around her shoulders.

It was wonderful she thought, sitting on the blue patterned chair whilst her eyes were fixed to the landscape to her left… There, anything could happen and there, they were no rules; her own world, that is what she enjoyed. 

What was favourable was that she paid more attention to those things happening around her; no, I’m not referring to the people, but the small things which most people took for granted.

For example: how the black woman seated beside her seemed to be so deeply nestled within her scarf, you just knew she wished it was her duvet.

Or perhaps how the train conductors tone didn’t necessarily speak joy but what was mostly disappointing was that not lot of people outside notice or even foresee the child’s excitement as the train arrived.

It was also curious to her how even with her headphones planted within her ears, she could still hear the loud chatter around her, but for some reason, she could never turn her music up because that would mean drowning out the child’s laughter and that seemed almost unspeakable. 

Something about this moment reminded her that although she was trying to force herself into her own place, she was taken back to the real one, which in a sense gave an edge to her dreams.