He stepped onto the train and took his usual spot leaning up against the door on the opposite side. He had sunglasses on his face and headphones on his ears, to try to shut himself off from the outside world. He looked around at the other people on the train, but didn't really see them. He heard the faint sound of the familiar tones, and the doors closed.
Along the way, the train car tilted and shook like it always did. He gazed out the window with unfocused eyes as the trees and buildings rushed by. The train thundering along the tracks was so loud that it practically drowned out his music, but he didn't turn it up - he wasn't even really listening. Soon, he was pressed up against the side divider as the train slowed down to stop at the next station.
The door opened with a ding, and a few people plodded in. His attention came back to him and he lazily glanced over at the newcomers. Then, he saw her. She gave him a quick glance as her eyes swept across the train car, then she found a seat and sat down, facing him. It was a good thing he was wearing sunglasses, or else everyone would have seen him staring. He'd never seen her before, but she was the most beautiful person he could ever imagine.
He barely even noticed what she was wearing, all he could see was her face. It almost shone to him. Her eyes were somehow both soft and sharp at the same time, kind, but also full of life. She smiled at something on her phone, and it was a mischievous, slightly crooked smile. But the only thing that he could think of to describe her was perfect; that was the only word that kept running through his head. He wondered what it would be like to be with her...
She took his hand and lead him through the crowd, laughing as they ran. They went in between some old stone houses, running down the wood trimming on the boulevard. She kept looking back and smiling as they ran down the street, and he couldn't help but smile back. When they got to the end of the street, there was a bench on the corner, under a gigantic tree. She lead him over to it and they sat down.
As they sat there, he felt nothing but pure joy. Then, he felt something cold and wet drop on his head. It couldn't be rain, it was the perfect day. The two looked up, and falling from the boughs of the tree were hundreds of little bubbles, each about the size of a quarter. Inside each bubble were tiny little flowers of every colour imaginable. The pair were in awe at the sight as the bubbles floated down towards them, glistening in the light of the sun.
Then the wave of bubbles hit them, soaking their hair and clothes as they popped. The flowers stuck to their wet skin, which made her giggle with glee. She got up, still laughing, and started dancing in the floral rain. She beckoned him over to her, but he hesitated - dancing wasn't really his thing. But she came over and grabbed his hand again, and pulled him away from the bench. Then, he just let himself go, and the two danced and laughed together as the bubbles swirled around them in the light wind.
Then, he was pressed up against the side divider again as he came back to the real world. He snorted at himself as he contemplated the daydream - he knew that the girl sitting in the seat wasn't the same girl he danced with. She didn't exist. She never would. The train stopped and she got up and walked out of the train. He didn't watch her go, instead he just crossed his arms and stared back out the window. Once again he faintly heard the familiar tones.
The doors closed.
End
So I guess this kind of came from me thinking about identity, who we are. Of course we know who we are, but you have to think that everyone else has kind of different versions of us in their own heads. So what really matters, who we really are, or how we're perceived or imagined by others? I think we'd like to assume it's the former, but I don't expect that's always true. Hm. Also the flower bubbles coming from the tree came from an actual dream I had. Weird huh o.O
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