Woman on a train.
Every so often on the train, I notice a woman looking at me because she thinks I’m looking at her.
But the only reason I’m looking at her now is that she’s looking at me. Yet, at first, I wasn’t actually looking at her—I was lost in thought, staring through her, thinking about something completely unrelated to the train, to her, to any of this.
It wouldn’t make sense to explain that when I’m deep in thought, I tend to stare without realizing what I’m looking at. She just happened to be in my line of sight. And saying anything would only make it more awkward—she already thinks I’m staring, so I might as well let her believe it—even though I actually want her to know otherwise because I don’t want her to be uncomfortable any more than I’m uncomfortable.
I just hope she forgets the whole thing once we leave the train and that we never see each other again.
Photo credit: Snyder Nagels
