This book

I wonder what chapter you’re on today. You haven’t been reading at night. It’s obvious from the proportions of paper between your fingers. It could be the same chapter as yesterday. Maybe stayed late at work last night? You don’t strike me as someone who works without regard for leisure. Though I’ve never read the book, it’s clear that you are enjoying it. Your face is full of… merriment. I wonder if I’d like it. A romance novel hitting a chord perhaps? That would explain the manner in which you are twirling your hair. This passage in particular. I’ve noticed you curling your toes since 9th Street.

Though the tunnel is usually dark, that twinkle is illuminated by the frequently passing maintenance lights. With each one, a new look of enjoyment in your gaze. The music in my ears makes me seem distracted. I lower it to concentrate on you and your book. It’s barely a whisper now. Who can hear it with the terrible screetching outside anyway?

You’re sneakers are in your bag today. That’s new. Going somewhere before work? Lustrous navy heels surrounding tired feet. I can’t help but steal a glimpse every time you cross your legs. I wish I knew what the story is about, and why you read it every day. Are you re-reading it? You’ve been in this one for a month or two now.

My suspicions are confirmed when you get off early. Much to my dismay. A shorter morning than we usually share. I’ll have to deal with it. Same time, same place tomorrow. I can’t wait to see you and your book.

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