Vagaries

The train was a long time moving off again.

He sat looking blindly at the platform’s advertisements. A woman came into view. She was running late. Did he recognise her? Surely, this was a girl from school. Now a grown woman; older, taller. He thought it was her, but he couldn’t be certain.

She was quite beautiful. Was she always that good-looking? He didn’t think so. Do people change that much in… how long would it be, ten, twelve years? Something like that. He couldn’t’ be sure.

She turned as she entered and walked towards him. She then spun around and sat down. Did she smile? Was it recognition? It was hard to tell from three rows back. Just before she turned her back to take her seat, she had looked at him for the briefest moment. He was pretty sure she did, but not completely certain. Was there a faint hint of recognition in that briefest of moments? There might have been, he couldn’t quite tell.

Metal screeched against metal as they pulled into the next station. He came out of his dream world, just long enough to see her get off and walk away down the platform. Did she raise a friendly hand as she exited? Was it an acknowledgement that she too remembered? Did it also evoke memories of their young, mostly unspoken, infatuation with one another?

He just couldn’t be sure.

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