Crowded train home tonight. I stood next to a beautiful blonde girl, in her mid-20s. An inch or two taller than me, full-figured, brown eyes, full lips, cheeks and nose dusted with faint freckles. I was facing to the left of the train’s motion, and she held onto the pole, facing toward the train’s forward motion.
I was already in place when she boarded, and as she took her place next to me, I dared not move, and so, due to random chance, we ended up in close proximity, two strangers. Just by not averting my gaze (shielded by my sunglasses and the brim of my hat though they were) I could examine her face in profile, just inches away from mine.
Her hand seemed small for a girl so tall, and it wrapped the pole just above mine. I could see her fingernails, short, unpainted, with just a hint of dirt under them, the skin a bit rough. She worked with her hands. She did not pamper them. My own hands have seen their share of dirt and cuts and scrapes but today seemed far fairer than did hers.
She was dressed in functional black. I assumed she worked in the food or service industry.
There was an intimacy, at least for me. I kept my expression neutral but I felt familiar with her, a warmth. I had not been this close to another human being for far too long.
The nearness of this beautiful girl affected me deeply.
That’s just how starved for human contact I feel.