She stepped onto the train, disconnected from the masses of people pressed against her as she weaved around their confining bodies in search of the seat. Third carriage from the right, first cluster of seats, right by the window. She always sat there. The chair significantly more faded than the rest, it stuck out like a sore thumb: she couldn't relate. Placing her bag on the seat next to her, she sat and stared through the window, simply gazing past the people in search of-
...
She didn't know what she was looking for.
YOU ARE READING
Earphones
Short StoryShe never really remembered her train rides. As soon as her ears heard a soft rhythm, when they felt the cold plastic of her earphones, she disappeared. --- ᴄʀᴇᴅɪᴛs ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴘʜᴏᴛᴏ ᴏᴡɴᴇʀ sᴛᴏʀʏ ɪs ᴍɪɴᴇ, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ~
