Inside World Of A Daydreamer

Part Of The Crowd

She blinked profusely as two or three people jostled her in the overcrowded train. The pokes in her back were made less painful by the added layers of clothing she and the other commuters were wearing. It took a second for her to remember where she was and why: in the train on the way to work. A quick glance around the cramped space earned her mostly grim faces and tired eyes. Ah the joys of the early morning commute she mused as the train sped along the track towards all of their destinations. She looked around again,  and this time earned a wink from an elderly man. A half grimace, half smile was what she returned before looking away quickly. It freaked her out whenever someone caught her staring. Time to mind your own business now she thought before popping earphones into her ears, and letting her mind retreat into her own world, the world she preferred to reality. The sulky, unhappy faces of her fellow commuters slowly faded away and were replaced by the vivid images of her alternate life. In this life, she didn't have to wake up when the sun had just re-surfaced from the horizon, when the light had just begun to touch the sky. She was in fact awake but still sleeping, enjoying the warm embrace of her bed covers while luxuriating in the knowledge that she did not have to wake up just yet. How well defined the images had become, for she could clearly picture the decor of the room- lilac painted walls, a queen-sized bed covered with white bed linen decorated with colourful butterflies and two landscape paintings depicting the Swiss Alps and a sandy beach that could possibly be in the Maldives. Even the smells were distinct - the sweet aroma of vanilla courtesy of the thick scented candles that were a permanent fixture of her bed side. Yes, this was way preferable to being constantly pushed and prodded while trying not to fall on to the filthy floor of the train. The music in her ears urged her to stay a while longer in her calm, peaceful fantasy land. To escape reality, and all the expectations and burdens that come with it. She would have loved to stay, really she would have. But if she didn't snap out of it soon, she would surely miss her stop!

The train came to a screeching halt, pulling our heroine out of her lovely alternative world. Back to reality. Yuck. Oh, her name is Stephanie by the way. Or Stevie for short. That's what her friends and family call her. As the train stopped once more, Stevie checked the station name for fear of missing her stop. She always marveled at how at she had never missed her stop before. Ever. Despite her  tendency to escape reality as often as she could. Upon noticing that she had arrived at her destination, Stevie pushed and shoved her way to the exit, apologising along the way as usual to disgruntled commuters. She jumped out of the train and breathed a sigh of relief. The air was crisp and cold with a hint of ocean breeze. She loved that about living in Stone Lake City - the unique smell of the ocean carried in the air. Pulling her phone out of her pocket to change the song, she noticed that the time was 0715. She was late! Her momentary joy was stolen by the need to make it to work before they were open for business. The bookstore/coffee shop she worked in opened at 0730, and she had to be there half an hour beforehand to get ready before opening. Dropping her phone back into her pocket, she walked quickly away from the train station and towards Lève-tôt café, the quaint café-cum-bookstore that was about 250 metres away from the station. There, she worked as a waitress and cashier for both the bookstore and the café. It was a tricky job for someone who was naturally clumsy, but one she loved all the same. She crossed the road and power-walked to the café just around the corner, the perfect location for the unique little place adored by book-lovers and caffeinaholics within a 5 mile radius of the place. Pierre was going to kill her for being five minutes later than usual! She checked the time on her phone - 7:20! - before pushing open the heavy mahogany and glass door. The smell of freshly brewed coffee immediately hit her nostrils as she quickly shoved her bag into her cubicle and grabbed one of the cute aprons with the café logo on it. Upon hearing her entrance, Jeff one of the baristas, waved to her in greeting.
'Morning Stevie,' he sang merrily, ever the happy camper.
'Hey Jeff. How's it going?''
'Greaaat, though I can't say the same for you sweets. Pierre is on the warpath.' Fantastic. Her boss was angry with her. He had more or less accepted the fact that she would always get to work at 0715 but 0720? She had gone too far. If she was going to receive an ear full about her lateness, she might as well get on with her work and remind Pierre what a good employee she was, despite her tardiness. She made her way to the scullery, grabbed a spray bottle of detergent and a cloth, then proceeded to quickly scrub the tables inside and outside the café for five minutes. The last five minutes before opening she spent unfolding the outside chairs and refiling the sugar bowls. By 0730, she was ready to open shop, with only the baked goods to unpack as customers ordered and waited for their coffees. The café was always left spotlessly clean before closing time, a routine she had implemented herself because she knew she would never get to the café early enough to clean in the morning. She hadn't seen Pierre yet, and for that she was greatly relieved. Really, she did feel awful for being late because she hated disappointing people especially Pierre who was like the eccentric, well meaning uncle she had never had. He had spotted her as she was absentmindedly  browsing the adjoining bookshop, muttering to herself as usual . She was stuck in her own little world as she read the plots of different books, the characters coming to life in her imagination. The collection of books was quite extensive for a library of that size.