As the train departs, I shift leaving my seat 73 coach 10 and jump slightly ahead on a three sitter where two guys give me company.
I love it here, from my window I can spot the hilly vegetation, a rare cool climate, occasionally I see wild animals and the distant voices of the passengers murmurs but what intrigues me the most is the lady and her daughter.
They laugh spontaneously especially when I look at them, at their own jokes and I have to admit loving both of them, their physique, the complexion, the accent (somewhat Arabic) that is sometimes mixed with the local dialect.
Her young daughter feels shy at times and I like that part when her good looking cotton made black mask can't fit in properly and she turns to face the window for she doesn't get enough courage to face my curious eyes. Her mom loves that I smile and play around with her daughter from time to time and she loves that am listening to their stories.
As I write, I can hear their voices and my head finds it more comfortable to tilt on the left to get the unending view where they sit toe to toe facing each other. I see and write and this is what I love to do this cool afternoon. The mother is a Muslim, she's partly shown me her hair and ears. She's just pulled her buibui almost close to her hips, I don't want to imagine what else she's about to show me.
It's now sunny, the reflection of the sun and has just chosen their window and they are glowing.
Like a painter, I look at them and write, look at them and smile, smiling due to the thrill that I find just by staring.
@Vinceville
No comments:
Post a Comment