At the End of the Pier

Rain and Planes

The splash of dirty rain water coming from the streets of Seattle cover my black Converse shoes. I keep my eyes fixed on my feet as I walk; with my head down, fighting against the windy rain. My hands are pretty much frozen in my pockets, clenched in fists now, as they were when I left the house.

I hear the faint sound of an airplane overhead, somewhere above the cloud cover. So as I walk, I glance up at the grey sky. Barely squinting, I can't spot the plane. I lower my head once again, and listen to the sound of it coming closer.

• • •

At the subway station, people are buzzing all around me. Everyone is heading off to work in a rush, and I'm just here, standing still in a world that never stops moving.

I look around me; at the cylindrical brick walls, the concrete floor, and the flickering UV lights, dangling from the ceiling. I pull off the hood of my grey sweatshirt from my head. I then look down at my muddy Converse, and sigh.

The subway arrives and I get on with the other 50 million people getting on. I walk to the corner, and place my hand on a pole. I scan the crowd. People of different ethnicities and races are gathered around me, soaking up the silence.

The train lurches forward, and we speed off into a dark tunnel with faded, flickering lights. I close my eyes, and just for a tiny moment, I feel something. It's a strange feeling, and I can't exactly pinpoint what it is. My spine is ever so slightly tingling, and my hair is standing on the back of my neck. I've frozen up, my hands are suddenly numb and the atmosphere around me feels dense.

I open my eyes in a flash, unsure of what to think. For whatever reason, the needles I feel on the back of my neck seem to be more intense on my left side. I glance to my left, and notice a mysterious- looking boy who is sitting in a seat with his hoodie up. He is looking me over. Observing me. Sizing me up. The feeling intensifies, and I realize that for this second, our eyes have not come unlocked. His eyes are a sharp blue. His eyes are so cold looking, they may as well be made out of ice. He is the one to break the stare, as he turns his head back to the ground.

I don't know why, but I feel very uneasy. I turn my head and look at the wall of the train in front of me. I bring my arms to my chest, and take a deep breath. My breath stutters, and I notice I am shaking.
There is now a picture in my head. One that is both beautiful and troubling at once. His eyes... they are breath-taking.