Wednesday, January 27, 2016

Smiling and Waving

The train stops on the bridge, just opposite the office building with the giant windows. A few diligent workers keep the lights on in the creeping dusk, and I watch from my train car, hoping that one of them will look up so I can wave to him or her, but none of them do.

A guy walks by my car on the bridge pedestrian path down below, trudging in the cold. He glances up and I wave to him as my chest swells with the thrill of doing something forbidden, but he just smirks a little and keeps walking.

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