Sta.sh
He’s got the saddest eyes I’ve ever seen, and as he gets onto the train, I can’t help but say a prayer for him. I hope he’s going somewhere nice. Maybe he’s going home to visit his mother.
He looks like he’s coming back from some stressful business meeting. Is that possible? It’s late at night and all the regular offices closed hours ago. But he’s got a heavy-looking briefcase overflowing with dog-eared papers. And he’s wearing that severe black suit that looks very sharp but doesn’t really seem fitting next to his childlike face.
His hair is cropped short. The cuts looks fresh and unfamiliar, like it was only yesterday that he was a long haired child running in the golden summer sunlight. But tonight isn’t about summer frolicking. It’s about haircuts and business suits and first days of school.
The bus lurches around a corner. I grab the overhead pole a little tighter as I, along with all of the other passengers, swing to the side. A sharp corner of the sad eyed man’s briefcase jabs into my leg. He immediately apologizes. As the words “no problem” roll off my tongue, I relive the past second. Then again. And again. And again. His voice whispered with a gentle innocence that is rare to hear in anyone, least of all in a grown man. And his tone was so sincere. He was genuinely apologizing for his stray briefcase potentially hurting me. This was no run of the mill instant reaction or ‘please don’t be mad at me’ staged politeness. This was real.
Sometime before the end of the ride, we make eye contact. His eyes are wide like a young child’s, the irises a pale milky blue. He looks as though he had been crying a short time ago; the redness having subsided but the emotional residue still present.
I think, “Cheer up, Buddy. You’ll be okay.” I smile at him but he doesn’t respond. He’s got the saddest eyes in the world. I hope he’s going somewhere nice.
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It being as short as it was, I felt like I was there. Very descriptive and an enjoyable read!