Out of the corner of my eye, through the sheet of sticky tears, a yallow orb caught my eye. I glanced up, and smudged the tears away from my hot cheeks. He was beautiful, standing tall and alone on the tube platform of Camden Town.
He wore a long black coat, and had hair to match, tied in a sleek pony tail with an undercut. In his hand he held a small yellow ball. Fascination over took my facial features as I watched him perfom simple tricks, allowing the ball to roll accross his arms and hands like an extension of his own body. I soaked in every detail while pretending I wasn’t crying. Sitting on my large travel bag, it was easy to do this. I buried my hands into the sleaves of my hoodie to soak up the salty streaks. I glanced at him, and he caught my gaze. His presence was emence – suddenly I felt we were alone on the crouded platform.
As the train pulled into the station he let his lips form a smile.. I tried to return it as tears spilled down my cheeks. Accross the carrage he continued his tricks, practising until they were flawless. I hugged the yellow pole, resting my head against it, watching his hair shine brightly under the neon lights of the underground train. My eyes prickled with tears. He glanced up from his orb and caught my gaze. This distraction – a millisecond was all it was – was enough for his concentration to shatter, and the ball to lunge for the tube floor. He caught it before it bounced once. I smiled at him, then feeling the curdling blood rush into my cheeks, I stared around the tube – at the cream stiching on a womans bag, at the orange ticker proclaiming the next station. Anywhere.
“Stop looking around,” He mouthed at me. I smiled.
“Where else should I look?” I said silently. He grinned, and I noticed the stud in his bottom lip. He smooth young skin was flawless appart from this purferation.
He shrugged, his perfect features cracking a smile and again I felt the whole carrage melt away. My tears were drying on my face, but I continued to wipe it anyway. He put two fingers on his lips and drew an invisble smile. I did as he wished and allowed my lips to curve into the cresent moon of a grin.
“Stop crying” he commanded with his lips. Tears prickled against my eyes, making them feel tired and worn.
“Why?” I shrugged, allowing pale tears to slide sparkling down my cheeks. He looked regretful and shrugged again. His shrug almost made me laugh bitterly. There was no good reason to stop crying. He mouthed something that was lost without sound. I frowned and wispered what? He repeated this strange message… and again I felt my eyes brim with frustration. I couldn’t move down the carrage – not with my oversize travel bag. And I couldn’t leave my stuff… He smiled and shrugged, as the train doors slid open at Kings Cross.
I waved sorrowfully with one hand as he slipped off into the buzz of faceless people.
It hit me like nothing ever has. With the force of time itself. I didn’t say thank you. And now… everything had slid straight back to how it was with out giving me any warning.
If you’re out there… thank you so much. You restored my faith in humanity and made my life better for the 10 minutes we spent between Camden and Kings Cross.
Thank you xxx