I traced the lines of the skyline with my eyes as the train crossed the East River. In a distant seat someone stood up and began walking, the stride, the pace, matched the movement of the train. I, lost in my thoughts, as lost as always, imagined a person, the person, walking to me. Swaying with the train, she stood to the left of me in front of an empty seat.
“The seat is free. Please….”
She shifted her small backpack frontwards, the shadow of the bridge’s steel bars obscured her face for a moment, but she wore a green summer dress, a backpack the color of cherries (or was it a purse?), boots, and a jacket still warm from the afternoon’s sunlight.
I knew her. I have known her all my life.
Today, her hair was as long and as wild as I have ever seen it. Maybe a shade darker. Changing from brown to gold, her hair fell across her left shoulder and over her chest. Today, I saw beyond that. I could see the savoriness of her skin, the melody of her movements, the comfort of her hips, the sweet smell of her. I could see the whole of her as easily as a full moon on a clear night.