I look back down to my book, and after the next stop, she's gone.
Nulla dies sine linea. Four sentences every day. About whatever happened that day. Most of it's even true. Written by Scott Lee Williams
Tuesday, September 30, 2014
The Evening Commute - Two (Disappearer)
She stands, back to the train door in a Lemony Snicket t-shirt and a black hoodie. I can see her from the corner of my eye, checking out my book. When she sees me notice her t-shirt, though, she quickly zips up the hoodie and shoves her headphones deep into her ears, which is when I notice the boyish features and clothes, the stubble on her upper lip, the adams apple and large knuckles, the poorly applied, then removed, nail polish (black, like the t-shirt and hoodie) the long hair covering the lightly receding hairline.
Posted by Scott Lee Williams at 10:46 PM
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