Die Writing

On the metro #6

Posted in Uncategorized by erdaron on April 21, 2012

One

He is an aging manchild with a poorly maintained businessman haircut. Slightly overweight, dressed in a polo shirt, ill-fitting jeans, and tennis shoes with obnoxiously loud orange laces. She is his perfect contrast – smartly dressed and well presented, aside from the usual wear of long work hours. They are adorably awkward with each other. It is easy to imagine them working on different floors, meeting at an after-hours work function, carelessly flirting assuming they will never see each other, and now collecting the prize of living on the same metro line.

They sit about as far apart as two people could on the decidedly unspacious bench. She has pressed herself into the corner between the window and the back of the bench. He is leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. The conversation is sparse. Not just the same metro line. The same stop.

Two

He is beautiful. Like other truly beautiful people, it is not merely his appearance – perfect musculature, noble features, smooth dark skin that slightly shimmers in the sunlight, made of subtle half-tones that make him look like an oil painting – but the way he carries himself. He is not cocky. He is not overbearing. His beauty is tastefully unadorned, calm, and centered. One arm is extended across the back of a bench and he gazes into the sunny city outside, taking in every relaxed, gorgeous moment naturally and casually.