He was staring at me so intently I could not help but meet his gaze.
We were thrown together on the tube travelling from Liverpool Street to Lancaster Gate, I don’t know why I caught his eye but something about me clearly fascinated him. I was dressed for work, in a grey unassuming suit teamed with a black vest top. Small fake pearls decorated my ears and a little bracelet graced my wrist. He had opted for more casual wear and was sporting blue three quarter length trousers with a decorated top, he didn’t look the type for piercings and I couldn’t see any although I noticed with raised eye brows that he didn’t wear shoes.
His gaze penetrated me, unblinking he held my eyes for three stops when I gave up and had to look away.
What could he see?
Did he stare into my soul and see my sins, did he note I was wearing flip flops not high heels, did my quickly put on morning make up distress him.
Did he find me beautiful?
At one point I swear he drooled a little before brushing it away.
I felt hot, uncomfortable to be so visually studied. I pretended not to care but still I leaned into my bag and brought out a dull red lipstick and restored colour to my face.
The tube thundered on, I turned in his direction was more and found that stare still there.
It was becoming too much, those pretty blue eyes felt like judges on my being. What the hell was he looking at? And why me, why me.
Why not the woman who was dressed in last nights clothes with shame stinging her cheeks as she teetered onto the train in tired feet.
Why not the business suits arguing heatedly over the price of petrol who loudly informed the rest of the passengers it was simply not on.
Why not the woman who was stood beside him, holding his hand with obvious affection.
Why me?
These questions bubbled in my being and finally when I could take no more of the look I opened my mouth to speak as the train stopped and the doors also slid wide to reveal a platform.
The woman next to him released his hand, walked behind him, then grasped the handles of the pram and pushed him out of my carriage.
My mouth closed; I will never know the answers.
Am also not entirely sure he was old enough to speak…
Aww, isn’t that sweet. I bet the wee toot thought you were someone famous.
Probably mistook me for Jessica Ennis
That is so gorgeous! For one scary moment I thought your post was going down the (pardon the pun) same track as mine. Thankfully it wasn’t…. yours was a far more pleasant encounter!
xx jazzy
Well am intrigued now…
Ohh fab post Jane, you had me on the ecge of my seat wondergin what on earth woud happen next…. and then came the humour.
Mich x
Thanks Michelle xxx
You are a clever piece! Feared the climax would be discovery of a large blob of porridge on your chin.
I don’t even like porridge….
That was great! I’m with Middle-aged Matron and thought it’d be something on your face. I cracked a big grin. Thanks for sharing the cool story. 🙂
Glad it made you smile
Awwww thats very cute – I’m never quite sure what to do what a baby latches its gaze onto you – i usually stick my tongue out. Reactions are a bit hit and miss 🙂
hahaha!
at least it didn’t look at you and burst into tears : )
oo and I love reading your blog!
Thanks sian! x
Hahaha brilliant!
Ta x
I didn’t expect that ending – I thought you were remembering meeting your husband!!