As he waited for the train, he noticed this beautiful girl sitting not too far away from him. Stealing glances at her, he thought he saw her doing the same thing to him. Picking up courage, he looked in her direction, and fixed his gaze for longer than a moment. No, she wasn’t looking at him. He sighed.
The train arrived. They both got on. Seats were plentiful, but he, hoping to aid Cupid, picked a seat directly opposite her. But he wasn’t a go-getter type, and sitting directly opposite her soon made him feel awkward. He regretted his choice.
Not knowing where to place his eyes — “better not let her think me a pervert by cathing me looking at her, especially after I picked this seat! How obvious my motives must be!” — he stared at the floor.
She was thinking about her hair. Where would she get it done? Her friends told her about this new salon — she was on her way to meet them there — but she has had her hair done by the same stylist for the last few years, could she trust this new salon?
Across from her sat him. She noticed he was staring at the floor, and wondered what he might have been thinking. But her thoughts were soon diverted to a book another passenger was reading, she tried to find out what that book was, just for fun.
Her stop came, and she got off, thinking about what her new hair might look like.
Her stop came, and she got off, and he felt like going after her. But he had errands to run. He felt blessed for having shared this commuter time with her.
She made his day.