Monday, 20 June 2011

Matchmaker on the train

He plugged his headphones in music drowning out the mundane hubble of this metropolitan line train.

I sat opposite him. His jacket was brown and he wore a black t-shirt of a green tree of some sort, blue jeans, blue plimsoles. He wasn't for me that much was obvious, but then I wandered who would be perfect for such stunning piercing hazel brown eyes. He wasn't scruffy, but he had a scruffy aura, like he just did things, not really bothering for the mundane procedures of life. He liked a life of simplicity.

His perfect girl got on the train on the next stop. She was blonde wore black combats and a stripey long sleeved t-shirt. Her lip was pierced. She probably wasn't so simple in her outlook on life as he was, but that only made them more of a perfect match. She read a book and was absorbed into it as he was into his music. Her fingers turned the pages greedily, as his fingers tapped to the rhythm on his ipod, so fast it was almost as if he was dancing with the notes. Every now and then he sang softly with the song. If they had both looked up just once, into each others eyes, they would have fallen in love. Destined as they was, they both got up when we approached king's cross station and together they stepped off the train going their own separate ways.
Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless device

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