I sit here and listen, to my iPod. Thrash metal.
Midweek evening, flowers in hand. Love token? Peace offering? Commiserations? There is confidence in the posture but the umbrella suggests that this is someone who arrives prepared for a sudden turn in the weather.
One day, someone who looks like the man on the right will sit on the train, right beside me. It will be a lesson: do not render people so loosely, just because you think they’re about to move away.
More reading. This time in a black, combat-style jacket. Doubt it would last long in a military scenario somehow but that’s fashion for you. No idea what she was reading. Art of War, maybe?
Four across, seven letters; act of taking water from well, perhaps also with pen and paper.
Vacant, yet oddly attentive, this man never spotted me drawing him. I was sitting directly opposite, less than an arm’s length away and was the only other person in the carriage, barring his wife. She was another matter. Didn’t take her eyes off me. She wasn’t exactly hostile but definitely wasn’t trusting me too much either. They seemed like a nice couple. Struck me as out-of-towners on a trip.
Reminds me of the old joke about the cross-eyed teacher: couldn’t control his pupils. Sorry