by Chris Fletcher

Created on: November 03, 2008

Every day, I take the R train. I take it from the Queens Plaza station, going from college to home at the end of the afternoon. The V train follows the same track, and shows up across the platform behind me. Thirty feet, nothing more. I never take the V, even if it shows up before the R.

Today, I'm not feeling quite myself. But I take the R train, just like always.

There is a reason for this. She has red hair and green eyes, and has that effortless porcelain beauty that you just don't see any more. Her skin looks so white it could shatter, so should be treated delicately; with reverence and respect.

She wears black a lot, but occasionally harnesses a flash of primary color here and there. She has confidence; perhaps an air of arrogance, but I doubt it. She is beautiful and she knows it, but I don't think she abuses it.

I like that quality. It adds dimensions to her that I find lacking in every other woman I see. They simply pale in comparison, all of them, pretty much.

I see her every day on the R train, sitting always near a door with her bare legs delicately crossed. I have never seen her in slacks, and I am fascinated that a woman in this era would consistently wear skirts, regardless of the weather. Such bravado! Such bravery for one so precious. This tells me she is forthright and strong-minded. She is sure and sound and assertive.

She is wonderful.

And yet, there is not one single chance I will ever talk to her. A precious seven minutes or so each evening, this is all I have. I wear dark glasses even in winter, and so I can glance at her without fear of reproach. I am addicted to her mannerisms, her aura.

I am helpless to the way she exhales.

Why don't women like this exist in the real world? I mean seriously - in my neighborhood and grocery store; my classes and office; every single sidewalk I ever walk down. Nobody like her anywhere. Nobody even remotely like her.

Life just has to be like that, huh? Most would call it irony. I refer to it with curse words.

Anyway, if I sidetrack like that, please tell me. I want to get my point across.

I see this girl every day and she terrifies me. All girls have this effect, but none more so than her. I just cannot find the courage to talk to her, to say hello. I can't smile in her general direction, even. This distresses me greatly - I swear she has caught my eye once or twice, and what she would see is this dark and moody looking guy with sunglasses and a frown. She would think the expression pained, but really I am just concentrating,

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