Monday 22nd October 2018 AM

11:00: Commuter contact

A lady in yellow takes a seat in front of me. Looks me in the eye and smiles. She then picks up the phone and proceeds to have a rather important conversation regarding money. As the minutes pass, her friendly demeanour grows less. Lines appear between her eyes, her face tenses moving each feature slightly towards the centre of her face. Mouth closer to nose. Nose closer to eyes. The scowl of frustration is not a pretty one. Her voice once so soft it was drowned by train tracks and keyboard typing neighbours began to creep up. The phone call had changed the softly spoken, friendly faced woman in the yellow coat into a scowling agitated commuter.

I keep my eyes on the move.

Left, out the window to the reflection of my awkward self. wondering how long the balls of dust can cling on up there. My eyes follow the curved wall down to the right window. Fixed on the passing green blur of trees. My eyes try to fix themselves to the passing views. An impossible task causing them to give up. The view becomes obscured further by the water collecting in my eyes from the strain they’re under. They begin to travel back round again, anti-clockwise this time, ensuring not to catch the gaze of the aggravated woman. I can feel her frustration radiating causing me discomfort.

I’m tense.

I’m tense, noticing her tense. To timid to move my body and rattle the cage.

My legs are stiff, stiff and beginning to ache from keeping themselves tucked in this unnatural position. Still looking out the window I loose focus for a moment. I forget the hostile stance I’m in. I lift up my left leg and begin to tuck it over the right one for a more comfortable position. My left calf makes contact with my right thigh. It starts to slip down my trousers. My toes reach out and inch too far and I kick her yellow knees.

Contact has been made.

Instantly a lump rolls from my throat down to my stomach. My eyes jump from the window straight to her.

Contact has been made.

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