Monday Morning

by strangerthaniam

Sitting on a train train that is more packed than comfortable on this dreary Monday morning, I see a man standing within two arm’s length in front of me facing the window.  He is dressed in a tailored jet black suit, finely detailed black wingtip shoes polished with great care, a sliver of dark black socks camouflaged.  His hairstyle is sharp and among seasoned hairstylists, agreeably the perfect length.  There is an overwhelming black tone to his hair color, unwashed by the sterile glow of the subway lights.  His jaw line meets his strong chin effortlessly, with no affects of gravity pulling on the skin under his neck. I can not see his nose since his head is turned slightly forward, but I would imagine it to be about a 45 degree downward sloping with a sharp point, of a pythoragean ratio proportion.

He is surrounded by an eclectic group of individuals.  Behind him and obstructing part of my view is a little fat man wearing grey sweatpants and a sweatshirt, around 5’4″ with a brown scruffy beard, a product of his growing indolence.  Next to the little fat man, a female dressed in a royal purple peacoat stands with a look of boredom mixed with salient disgust in her eyes, most likely directed at the little fat man who I wouldn’t be surprised to have a oily, stringent odor seeping from the fat pores on his nose.  She’s a light skinned African American female, pretty face with eyes that are almost disproportionately large to her face but match well with her full, soft, pink lips – which I stare at for a few hypnotic seconds.  An abrupt slight disconnect of the metal train wheels to the metal rails break the boredom, petulant disgust shimmer from her dark, big brown eyes.

I break my optical thought from her and look out the window and it is still the same dreary Monday, even with the increasing number of photons filling the space between.

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