Run Again

May 10, 2012
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She was running through the closing subway doors, narrowly missing the train by seconds. Breathing heavily, she caught her breath and steadied herself, tightly gripping the metal pole. The doors shut behind her with a loud bang and the sound of a bell. The train began to move.
She found an empty seat towards the front of the compartment. The late night left a few people scattered throughout the large area. Sitting down, she opened her bag and pulled out a nearly empty water bottle and a small novel she had been carrying around recently. As she sipped the water she glanced at the man in front of her. He seemed somewhat familiar; he had the outline of someone from her past.
She pulled out a small green mirror and stared at her reflection, she looked like a mess. She smoothed out her dark chestnut hair and reapplied her rose colored lipstick. She picked up the novel and unfolded the triangle crease she left as a bookmark. A few lines into the page, she peeked at the man sitting in the seat in front of her.
He wore a gray t shirt, jeans, and black chucks. His bag lay on the seat next to him and he had ear buds on that quietly hummed out a distant tune. She couldn’t help but notice the porcelain skin on the nape of his neck. Her eyes traced the path from where is hairline ended to where his skin disappeared into his t shirt. There was a brown scar in the shape of a short line; it was healing. She felt the need to brush her fingertips along the scar but stopped herself. She focused her eyes on his forearms instead. They were toned but not muscular. The dark hair on his arms began on one side of his arm and receded on his inner forearm. The blue-green colored veins on his forearms were visible against his pale skin. She followed the veins from his inner wrist until they disappeared. The brown mop of overly gelled hair sat on top of a narrow head. His spikes pointed towards the ceiling and needed a haircut. His fingers tapped to the beat of the music, against the window pane. He had skinny fingers that outlined the shape of his bones and fingernails that needed to be trimmed. The thin gray t shirt he wore, hugged his body, snugly. His black sneakers were old with wear but looked just as comfortable. He sat upright in the uncomfortable plastic chair. She could just about see the end of one of his eyebrows and the tip of his nose from where she sat. The girl craned her head to get a closer view of the boy’s face but just as she moved her head, his head whipped around.
They locked eyes. His steel gray ones fought her chocolate irises.
She remembered. He was her almost lover.
Years of separation had changed them both, but his eyes, his eyes were unforgettable.
But coulddn’t deal with him now.
Not with everything going on with her family, the stress was just too much.
She felt the train begin to lose speed and slow down; he never took his eyes off of her while she avoided him and looked at the bright, fluorescent lights above her. As the train slowed down to a stop, she slowly stood up and he matched her actions. Both of them rose up, cautiously, as he began to open his mouth.
Then she began to run yet again.

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