even her sweater tied around her waist. Ipod blasting top 40, from the 90's. To me she was just a dirty backpacker on the skytrain heading home, probably somewhere in cloverdale. To him...
"Is that rock-climbing gear?"
Tan-lined dude with a cliche tattoo looks behind his seat at her. She looked like my dog whenever I come home. (Standing at the far end of the living room, calm, but jumps at the second I walk towards him) She eagerly waited for his response. He went off about his job and worksite before he pulled out his phone to take a call.
Thats when I stopped paying attention. For a second.
She opened her backpack and pulled out.. lip gloss. She quickly applied it, looking at her reflection on the window that played hide and seek with her in the sunlight. She glanced at me once. And I looked at her.
She was, older...er-ish. Her running shoes were torn. Her skin was glazing like the krispe kreme that ashed the side of her mouth a bit. Her hair wore in pigtails. I still thought she was a dirty backpacker. But when the dude got off the phone and turned to talk to her..
And she smiled. And it was, beautiful. (At that moment I thought that word was a major understatement) She missed her stop. I don't know if to prolong their conversation but he walked right out of the train with no "nice to meet you" or "have a good day". She rode past him, lip glossed and tappin' her foot to her music. She got off at the next stop and waited for the next train going the other direction. Before the doors closed i heard her voice.. "Nice day huh?" .. I looked up to see her conversing with another dude..
She's not desperate for love.. she's willing. - God is love