In the train
Sitting opposite me was a couple in their mid to late twenties.
The man was thin, and had a moustach. His skin was pale but clear. His features were angular, and he seemed painfully thin. His hair was thick and black and wavy and comes down to his shoulders. He was wearing a graphic T-shirt with some arty logo on, a black jacket, and jeans that looked very dirty and frayed at the hems. His black converse shoes were just as dirty. He gazed mindlessly at the TV monitor, which only ever shows cable news and advertisements about health products and distance learning courses. His eyes hollow but very black. Occasionally he would touch the woman's hand, then mindless retrieve it to touch his moustach or scratch his head.
The woman had an oval face. Her eyes were small, her features delicate, her skin smooth. She had masses of thick curly black hair. The first thing I noticed about her was her footwear. A pair of flat red pumps, with bits cut out here and there, giving you a glimpse of her red swollen flesh. Bits of glitter were stuck on it, and it looked like a DIY job. Her jeans were bleached on the thighs, and she had a black knitted poncho on. Like her companion, she stared into nothing most of the time, and occasionally darted me a look which I would not describe as friendly.
I guess I stared too much.
They did not look at one another nor talk to one another during the journey. When the train began to pull into Hung Hom Station, the man leaned over to the woman ever so slightly, and gave her the slightes peck on her left cheek. Then he got up and went to stand by the door. When the train stopped, he walked out.
Once the doors were shut again, the woman retrieved a compact from her bag. As the train pulled out from the station, she started putting on concealer around her eyes and the wings of her nose, carefully. Every now and then she glanced out of the windows, I guess to check if her companion might still be seen. Then she took out a black kohl pencil, and skillfully drew around her upper eyelids. Next were the eyelash curlers, and mascara. Then blush. Then powder. The whole operation took about three minutes. I know, because by the time the train arrived at the next stop, she has already been transformed. She looked glamorous and sexy. Before she got off the train, she took off her poncho to reveal a slim fitting black t-shirt with a low cut neckline.
The man was thin, and had a moustach. His skin was pale but clear. His features were angular, and he seemed painfully thin. His hair was thick and black and wavy and comes down to his shoulders. He was wearing a graphic T-shirt with some arty logo on, a black jacket, and jeans that looked very dirty and frayed at the hems. His black converse shoes were just as dirty. He gazed mindlessly at the TV monitor, which only ever shows cable news and advertisements about health products and distance learning courses. His eyes hollow but very black. Occasionally he would touch the woman's hand, then mindless retrieve it to touch his moustach or scratch his head.
The woman had an oval face. Her eyes were small, her features delicate, her skin smooth. She had masses of thick curly black hair. The first thing I noticed about her was her footwear. A pair of flat red pumps, with bits cut out here and there, giving you a glimpse of her red swollen flesh. Bits of glitter were stuck on it, and it looked like a DIY job. Her jeans were bleached on the thighs, and she had a black knitted poncho on. Like her companion, she stared into nothing most of the time, and occasionally darted me a look which I would not describe as friendly.
I guess I stared too much.
They did not look at one another nor talk to one another during the journey. When the train began to pull into Hung Hom Station, the man leaned over to the woman ever so slightly, and gave her the slightes peck on her left cheek. Then he got up and went to stand by the door. When the train stopped, he walked out.
Once the doors were shut again, the woman retrieved a compact from her bag. As the train pulled out from the station, she started putting on concealer around her eyes and the wings of her nose, carefully. Every now and then she glanced out of the windows, I guess to check if her companion might still be seen. Then she took out a black kohl pencil, and skillfully drew around her upper eyelids. Next were the eyelash curlers, and mascara. Then blush. Then powder. The whole operation took about three minutes. I know, because by the time the train arrived at the next stop, she has already been transformed. She looked glamorous and sexy. Before she got off the train, she took off her poncho to reveal a slim fitting black t-shirt with a low cut neckline.
posted by Pierre at 7:27 AM
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