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Description
'You got my heart in a headlock'
- The Feeling.

I first saw him on a crisp, chilly morning in late October. I was late for work and therefore forced to break into a run in order to catch the 7:32 train. This is going to be one of those days, I thought to myself. Running as fast as I could in my uncomfortable work shoes, I rushed toward the train station, heart in mouth as I desperately tried to get there in time. After what felt like an eternity, I finally made it to the station, perspiring, flustered and exhausted. This is definitely going to be one of those days, I reaffirmed. Just as I reached the platform, the train pulled away almost mockingly, as I looked on after it with a combination of exasperation and disappointment. The next train wasn’t until 7:50. I was going to be late.

Noticing a light commotion coming from the right of me, I turned to face the direction where the noise was coming from and what I saw wasn’t quite what I was expecting. The ruckus was coming from this slight woman, a beautiful woman. I caught her in the corner of my eye as I was making my way to the train station earlier, but getting a better look at her, she was far more beautiful than I had initially thought. Unfortunately though, this didn’t seem to be the greatest of times for her, with the way she ran towards the train I assumed she was probably late for work. Her eyes stared down the fleeting train in frustration and I saw her wipe her forehead with her left hand. I was almost tempted to say something but I held my tongue. I simply watched her look on towards the train in disappointment and then she must’ve felt me looking at her as she turned towards me, her eyes curiously meeting mine.

As I stared after the train fruitlessly, I suddenly experienced an odd and very disconcerting feeling. A feeling of being watched. I sensed a pair of eyes curiously watching me in my peripheral vision. Intrigued as to who my audience was, and slightly annoyed that they had witnessed my almighty failure to catch a train, I turned towards them and made eye-contact. What I saw I did not expect. I expected to see a school kid sadistically enjoying my flustered countenance at the cruelly slow departing train, or perhaps even an elderly woman whose eyes sympathetically radiated the words: ‘We’ve all been there’. Instead, what I saw was a young man, casually leaning against the outside wall of the platform’s waiting room, complete with smart black suit and morning newspaper held open before him. There was an undeniable handsomeness about him. I felt my cheeks immediately begin to redden, when he suddenly pointed down towards my feet, the hint of a smile playing on his lips. Confused, I looked down and saw the lace on my left shoe had worked its way undone. Embarrassed at my apparent inability to tie my own shoelaces, I knelt down and briskly tied them up. Can this day get any more embarrassing for me? I wondered miserably.

I felt like sinking into the ground, humiliated and full of self-loathing. Shoelace violently yet firmly tied up, I eventually mustered the strength to raise my head and prepared to stand up. But I was suddenly taken aback, as something was standing before me that wasn’t there before. Someone. A hand was extended towards me, offering me a hand up, and I noticed that this hand belonged to the handsome man.

I smiled reassuringly at this woman, trying my best to look as docile as possible. I tucked my newspaper underneath my left arm and extended a helping hand. She took it cautiously and I helped her to her feet slowly. With me still holding her hand, I gave it a firm shake before releasing it and saying, “The name’s Henry,” and I smiled again. “I noticed you appeared to be running late; I’m really sorry about that. We’ve all been there, unfortunately.” I nodded my head towards where the train would be, “I wouldn’t be too concerned though, the next train should be here in about 15 minutes or so.” She nodded appreciatively, although it’s easy to tell she’s still a little flustered. I took the newspaper from under my arm and put it inside of my suitcase, then mumbled to no one in particular, “I can always read the sports section on the way to work…”

With my suitcase in my left hand and my right now sliding into my pocket, I took my eyes off of the woman to not come across as unusual or anything. Geez…she’s really pretty. Should I ask her for her name or let it go? I get out of my own head and shift uncomfortably before asking with surprising composure, “So, what’s your name?”

Description
'You got my heart in a headlock'
- The Feeling.

I first saw him on a crisp, chilly morning in late October. I was late for work and therefore forced to break into a run in order to catch the 7:32 train. This is going to be one of those days, I thought to myself. Running as fast as I could in my uncomfortable work shoes, I rushed toward the train station, heart in mouth as I desperately tried to get there in time. After what felt like an eternity, I finally made it to the station, perspiring, flustered and exhausted. This is definitely going to be one of those days, I reaffirmed. Just as I reached the platform, the train pulled away almost mockingly, as I looked on after it with a combination of exasperation and disappointment. The next train wasn’t until 7:50. I was going to be late.

Noticing a light commotion coming from the right of me, I turned to face the direction where the noise was coming from and what I saw wasn’t quite what I was expecting. The ruckus was coming from this slight woman, a beautiful woman. I caught her in the corner of my eye as I was making my way to the train station earlier, but getting a better look at her, she was far more beautiful than I had initially thought. Unfortunately though, this didn’t seem to be the greatest of times for her, with the way she ran towards the train I assumed she was probably late for work. Her eyes stared down the fleeting train in frustration and I saw her wipe her forehead with her left hand. I was almost tempted to say something but I held my tongue. I simply watched her look on towards the train in disappointment and then she must’ve felt me looking at her as she turned towards me, her eyes curiously meeting mine.

As I stared after the train fruitlessly, I suddenly experienced an odd and very disconcerting feeling. A feeling of being watched. I sensed a pair of eyes curiously watching me in my peripheral vision. Intrigued as to who my audience was, and slightly annoyed that they had witnessed my almighty failure to catch a train, I turned towards them and made eye-contact. What I saw I did not expect. I expected to see a school kid sadistically enjoying my flustered countenance at the cruelly slow departing train, or perhaps even an elderly woman whose eyes sympathetically radiated the words: ‘We’ve all been there’. Instead, what I saw was a young man, casually leaning against the outside wall of the platform’s waiting room, complete with smart black suit and morning newspaper held open before him. There was an undeniable handsomeness about him. I felt my cheeks immediately begin to redden, when he suddenly pointed down towards my feet, the hint of a smile playing on his lips. Confused, I looked down and saw the lace on my left shoe had worked its way undone. Embarrassed at my apparent inability to tie my own shoelaces, I knelt down and briskly tied them up. Can this day get any more embarrassing for me? I wondered miserably.

I felt like sinking into the ground, humiliated and full of self-loathing. Shoelace violently yet firmly tied up, I eventually mustered the strength to raise my head and prepared to stand up. But I was suddenly taken aback, as something was standing before me that wasn’t there before. Someone. A hand was extended towards me, offering me a hand up, and I noticed that this hand belonged to the handsome man.

I smiled reassuringly at this woman, trying my best to look as docile as possible. I tucked my newspaper underneath my left arm and extended a helping hand. She took it cautiously and I helped her to her feet slowly. With me still holding her hand, I gave it a firm shake before releasing it and saying, “The name’s Henry,” and I smiled again. “I noticed you appeared to be running late; I’m really sorry about that. We’ve all been there, unfortunately.” I nodded my head towards where the train would be, “I wouldn’t be too concerned though, the next train should be here in about 15 minutes or so.” She nodded appreciatively, although it’s easy to tell she’s still a little flustered. I took the newspaper from under my arm and put it inside of my suitcase, then mumbled to no one in particular, “I can always read the sports section on the way to work…”

With my suitcase in my left hand and my right now sliding into my pocket, I took my eyes off of the woman to not come across as unusual or anything. Geez…she’s really pretty. Should I ask her for her name or let it go? I get out of my own head and shift uncomfortably before asking with surprising composure, “So, what’s your name?”