A Game Of Tag On The Train

When my eyes first turned her way, hers had - almost with a start - darted away, and I'd wondered if she had been looking at me.

I didn't dare openly watch her, so I'd look away elsewhere and occasionally, my eyes would drift back to her.

Subsequently, a sort of awkward yet thrilling little game of tag seemed to develop.

I'd look her way, and sometimes our eyes would meet for a flitting moment; other times, I was in time only to catch the flutter of her lashes as she lowered them, or as her eyes flitted off into another direction.

At times, my eyes would be on her, and she'd turn in my direction, and then my eyes would drop or dart away.

I wasn't sure who was stealing glances at whom, and who was catching whom: was she looking at me looking at her, or was she looking at me looking at her looking at me? Did I catch her looking at me, or did I catch her looking at me looking at her?

Who knew?

(Who cared?)

It had been a fun train ride.



(11:41 SGT)