1 -- BLACK, BLUE, AND VANILLA

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Friday

End of the week

The weekend awaits

Friends, dinner, a movie

Laughter, discussion, playfulness

A vehement difference of opinion

Politically incorrect

As it should be

Chores, errands, shopping.

Sex.

Comfortable, comforting, safe.

Warm, enveloping.

Vanilla

Ugghhh


But, now

Friday 8 a.m.

The train arrives, packed as usual.

God ! He rolls his eyes.  Brown eyes.

Hell in a tin tube.

And an hour of hell, at that.

Either hurtling along, or stood completely still

No in between

Towards hell in a concrete box

Much like his life.


A blue seat

Not comfortable, but.

A seat, none the less.

A black leather briefcase

A gift, memories

A different kind of black leather

Hmmmm

Not at all vanilla

Brown eyes sighs, deeply

Unpacks the contents of the briefcase on to the small table.

Others watch

What ?  It's work

You don't work ?

Tablet, notepad, pens, phone, earphones, coffee.

Brown eyes explore the hell tube.

Suits, ties, men, women.

No kids

A furrowed brow, a twisted lip, 

No tears.

Not here, not now.

Another sigh, deeper

A hearts pain, a souls grief.

Such is life, he assumes.

His life.


Wait, though

Diagonally across the way.

Another pair of brown eyes

Dark brown eyes

Chocolate eyes.

Similarities, he notices.

Same colour skin

Same hair, almost.

Chocolate eyes, a fro, 

His own, in twists.

A full mouth, sumptuous, defined

Plump,

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