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Wednesday, October 26, 2011


They were in the train. They were always in a crowded train. It were only afternoons when they were going home that they got to be alone from everyone. It were these quiet afternoons on the train that she got to see him without his arrogance and laughter. He merely talked quietly with that smile of his.

The carriage jolted and her head bumped against his chest. She felt his chuckle as he patted her head. She was used to his touch by now and smiled at his warmth. But this time, his touch lingered. Sometimes, that happened. It were these little moments that she carried in her heart. His large hand remained on her head. Then, she felt the pressure on her head increased as he leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on his own hand. The very one on her head.

She gazed up at him with a questioning look but he stared ahead unmoving. That moment of warmth suddenly gone. And so they remained silent for the rest of the trip until her stop. The doors opened and a flow of people moved out. He uttered a goodbye and she stepped away from him with her words just above a whisper, 'If you're going to kiss me, have the audacity to do it properly or don't at all.'  Either the way, his girlfriend would not appreciate what had happened. No matter how innocent it had seemed. She wanted to ask him what it meant but the words died in her throat. With a heavy sigh, she disappeared into the streets. She needed to get home.

1 comment:

Bathwater said...

I know how it is, we remember those moments, those little details long after the other person has forgotten.

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