The other day I was returning home from work on the train,
it had been a particularly fraught and long day and therefore, my frame of mind
was similarly clouded. There were a number of other passengers already in the carriage
when I entered, sitting in the rather shabby green striped seats, some chatting
with their fellow travelling companions, others reading books or newspapers,
most just gazing out of the windows, minding their own business. I selected a
free seat, without much aforethought and as the train pulled away, I looked
forward to the conclusion of the journey when I’d arrive at the small apartment
I call home. Although if the truth be known, I was more looking forward to a
large glass of red that would be the first thing I’d attend to upon entering.
I like some of my fellow commuters without companions or
other diversions of the various forms of written words, gazing out of the window
and the scenery rushing past at an unknown speed. However, my absentminded
mental meanderings were drawn back from the world outside the carriage to two
young gentlemen sitting facing each other across the aisle from my
position. There were tossing banter
between themselves, whilst they weren’t unduly loud, due to the close proximity
of the seating in the carriage, I couldn’t help but overhear their exchanges. They were jolly as their word play went back
and forth like a ball between rackets in a game of tennis, and whilst perhaps
they were not always the most verbally dextrous utterances, all seemed to
contain an element of humour and jollity. It amused me and whilst I tried not
to listen, I couldn’t help myself, occasionally smiling along with a
particularly funny remark or verbal volley. Of course, my interest was also held by the
fact that these two gentlemen, of mid-twenties estimated age, were rather easy
on the eye; furthermore, one was captivatingly pretty and yes, I do
mean pretty. His face, pure and unblemished, his dark hair cut short in a
modern, yet timeless style, his eyes shining brightly and reasonably well-sized
red lips rendered his face an almost jaw-dropping angelic beauty. Repeatedly during the
slightly camp oral bat and ball game, he referred to himself by name, Michael
Wilson, a name that entered my conscious mind and has since never left, a name
that has sounded itself during dreams and more wakeful moments. My mood was
lifted beyond any expectation or probability, and thus as the train arrived at
my station, I really should have offered him, them a heartfelt thank you.
I saw his face, I know his name, he’ll never know mine, and
yes, he was only a stranger on a train, our lives overlapped for less than
thirty minutes, yet I know I’ll remember him and that moment forever. So
wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, Michael Wilson, I thank you sincerely.
© 2014 Copyright
Maybe it's time to take another journey.......have you ever met a stranger on a train and formed a friendship or a relationship? Have you ever encountered a face in the crowd that has stayed with you for many months, years or decades?
