cold teeth
My big toe hurts in these thrifted dark chocolate brown high pointed boots. It is throbbing, the feeling of my heart beat mirroring my body’s reaction to our first interactions. Flustered, looking away looking for composure within my grasp, trying but failing to seem indifferent to your presence. My incessant perturbing heartbeat would give me away every time.
The corridor of the train, the space in-between two wagons, there is a nested cove like area, most miss on the hunt for their assigned seats. A nook created amongst one of the grimiest modes of transport. I gravitate towards the individuality of this third space. The peace and quiet with the occasional passer by heading for the food wagon, no stranger’s legs pressed against mine, no eye contact full of infinite comments.
She sat on the top most step, with her large back against the hand rail. She chose to create her nook on the floor, the small, hard and dirty steps over an assigned seat.
Her ample figure in the edge of my vision slowly becoming an annoyance to my solitude. Her quiet presence persists and her silence becomes louder as the miles run by. Head down, doomscrolling, her chin blending into her neck, the lack of glamour, femininity and fragility transpire across her face, yet, it is painted with all sorts of make up products. The attempted compensation for her lack of genuine femininity sadly screams sorrow and a loss of self.
She got off, train now moving one way and I got asked today “where do you call home when you say you are going home? “
A split second too long, lost due to one the most basic questions about oneself, I smiled, forcefully, I suddenly felt my cheeks, I noticed the cold air on my now exposed teeth as my mouth remained stuck in this unsettling smile, compensating for the lack of words that should have rolled off my tongue.