writing_shadows

She gets a little carried away at one point, but that's all to the good. It makes the thing infectious, spreading to the people around us; a buzz rippling out through the crowd. She realises what she's done and blushes, but by then it's done and the air fairly crackles with desire.

I don't know her, although we've been talking for almost an hour. I never met her before today and I never will again. I'll never kiss her skin or touch her hair. I will never know anything about her. She might tell me her name, but then again she might not.

But I know everything about the man she's waiting for; who he is, what he does, and what he does to her. I know how he makes her feel and I know the ache in her his absence causes. All this she has told me, although she doesn't know me either; I was just someone to listen to her as the pain of absence lurched into a wild tumult of anticipation.

The train pulls in. A smile, a wave, and she's gone, flying towards the doors to meet him. In the end, I hear her name from him as they spring to each other's arms.

I drink in the desire, sweet and rich; unselfish and alive as it sparks through the waiting throng and floods into my soul.

It feels good. As I leave the platform, there is a smile of pure, unfeigned joy on my face.