Faces on a Train

He had seen that face before, in his slumbers and in his daydreams but now that face was here in solid form before him. He sat in the train gazing at this perfect beauty, just feet away on the opposite rail. Was she real or was he dreaming? No, this was real, he could smell the stale sweat and see the the 'don't bother me' expressions in the eyes of the other passengers on the train.

Her eyes met his, a half smile then those blue eyes looked away and down at her morning paper. Auburn hair, almost too pale skin. Did she hide from the Sun, or did the Sun temper his power to spare her skin from harm?

She looked up, once again their eyes met, this time a full smile, he felt unreal, elated but frightened, he tried to smile but his face was frozen, he looked away and down at his hands, curse his shyness, curse his cowardice.

He forced himself to look up then the jerk of the train took him away from his fear and delight.

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The next day, same seat, same perfect face. He steeled himself to look up and smile, she smiled back!

What next? Nothing. Once again she looked down to read her paper.

Ever since he could remember he had dreamed of this woman, she had always been there in his mind, even before he had seen her that first time. He had never heard her voice but he knew what she would sound like.

Was he going mad? He was nothing to her, just a face on a train.

He was not a handsome man, not particularly clever, when it came to women he had the words in his head but they never came out right. He had spent most of his adult life alone, no real friends, never had a real relationship with a woman, was he waiting for her?

He looked again, such beauty. Had it filled her heart with arrogance and cruelty or was her heart as sweet and as perfect as her face?

He imagined walking hand in hand with her, on the beach, the warm sand between their toes, the full moon above. Touching her, smelling her, feeling her heart beat against his as they held each other close. Then he came back to reality, she hardly knew he existed, but still those precious, painful thoughts remained.

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He lay in bed that night thinking of her. What could he do? Dare he walk across that platform and sit next to her? Just say hello, nothing too intense or strange, just say hello. Then what? His mind reeled and his heart ached. Was this love or just madness? He feared it was both.

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Morning again, the train, her. Once again that smile, but this time it seemed to linger, it was more than just a good morning smile, wasn't it?

He couldn't do this everyday, not knowing. He had to make that move. He could find an excuse to be on that train, next to her.

He decided, tomorrow he would make that move. What had he to lose, apart from everything.

He could hardly sleep that night but he was determined, success or humiliation, anything was better than this purgatory.

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He sat down on the train, he had 5 minutes to get across that platform to her, he could hardly look but forced himself, she was not there!

Maybe she had taken the day off, it was Friday, many people occasionally took an early weekend, she was young, beautiful, she would need those fun times.

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The weekend was not good, worrying about her, he yearned for Monday and her face and that chance.

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Monday came. She was not there! Maybe she had taken a holiday.

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He waited a week, two weeks, three, a month, she was not there.

Could she have changed her job, people do. Could she be ill? Could she have had an accident? Could she be.......No! He couldn't even think of that.

He knew now he would never see her face again, that perfect face, that perfect woman.

He quit his job, what was the point of being on that train without her.

He knew now it wasn't love, how could it have been? It was madness. But he missed her, he needed her.

He had no job or purpose but he started to board that train again everyday in the hope he would see her again, just once.

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It was hopeless. He lay in his bed that night and felt a tiny cold spot in his chest and as the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months that tiny cold spot grew. It got larger and colder and larger and colder, until it was all.