Strangers - Camren One-Shot (English Version)

One Shot.

Hi guys! This is the first one of my works that I translate to English, so, if you guys find any mistakes or misspelling at some part of the text please help me and point it out. I'm very fond of this one, it's the best one. I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I do. No more waiting, let's go! Thank you for reading!

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"We're just strangers. Complete strangers. With our resemblance and differences, but strangers, one to the other. Still, somehow I believe deeply in my heart, that we were destined to meet. If not here, in this almost empty but full of uncompleted stories subway car, in some particular moment in our unique existences."

Lauren Jauregui is a young woman. On the top of her twenties something, she loved to wear her black and long hair as a disguise to her rambling eyes. Her emerald green eyes were almost always lost in some still point that didn't mean anything at all, but at some weird way, represent everything. She didn't expect, not even could even if she tried, to be someone rational and linear. She was used to divergent thoughts, that often took her to dead ends in her own mind.

For her, everyday tasks turned into a deep well of philosophy that was built on top of her worldview, that in fact was very wide. She loved to create stories and characteristics to the most diverse characters that she would meet each day, would have a lot of fun building them a background that would explain their apparently no reason actions. Things that would be missed by most people who had their agitated mind taken all over by all possible problems and their possible solutions, wouldn't be missed by Lauren. A simple grin from a stranger, one specific gesture, one touch... Was enough to make her dive hard in her wandering, being withdrawn from them only when someone would speak to her directly and make her pay attention in something else.

Her mind was unstoppable and creative. And that's how her urge for using words as a rich and functional tool to express and structure her not so cohesive thoughts. She has begun working on her first chronicles when she was twelve. Since that time, she carries her sketchbook everywhere, depositing in it her most brilliant thought, so that they wouldn't be lost inside the vastness of thought her mind produces in a daily basis.

Lauren worked as a writer in a little newspaper of Manhattan, NYC. She moved there since she started studying journalism, leaving the little town she grew up behind. She lusted for life, she couldn't wait to experience the diversity of all feelings that human mind was able to create and bear. Life in a little town is so safe and boring that it didn't match her vivacity and youthfulness. Even though sometimes boredom and idleness were important for her creativity to raise and make her existence something more significant then the usual ordinary, there, in that as city full of life as herself, she didn't need to make that big of an effort to find what she was looking for. It was enough to know where to look.

And the brunette always new it. Her eyes were capable of chasing a target from distance, such as raptors chases their prey, non-stop, not losing sight of them not even for a second. And just as squirrels, smaller birds and other little animals that live in the forests, minding their own business, never aware of the danger, only noticing it when it was too late and their bodies were being gutted by the raptor's claws , the people which Lauren drank stories would never imagine the things that were crossing her mind while watched by her. They'd just follow their routine, mind their own business, while Lauren's mind worked mercilessly to turn anything into something magical.

And that was it, what was about to happen. While going home, every and each day, Lauren ran into every kind of people in the subway. Passionate couples petting each other, completely unaware of what was happening around, focused only in what way their needing hearts were touched by the other's presence. Rushing men and women, wearing fancy and snob clothes, always trying to reach their destiny as soon as possible, even forgetting to say they're sorry after bumping someone who was just crossing their way. Mothers with their kids, pet owners with their dogs in a leash, athletes in their running outfits, musicians with their instruments, preachers with their bibles, plus an infinity of people. Each one of them with their own complete, intense and deep stories. And Lauren was always willing to try unravelling the mistery behind each one of sad or worried face, every watching the clock or the cellphone's screen, every drumming fingers following a pattern that only the hand's owner was listening to, either in their headphones or withdrawn by their own memory.