Quotropolis

Dear girl with the bruised knees,

    I don't know what was it about you that intrigued me. Was it perhaps your simple looks or girly clothing, or possibly the manner in which you casually moved and sat , back turned against me, in the seat in front? Something must have; otherwise, I would not find myself writing about it. 

   Can't deny that having you closer gave me a chance to study you in a bit more detail. First thing, I noticed the buttons pinned to your backpack. One spelled "Kewl Gurl" and the other read a phrase in German of which I could not understand anything save for "München." You might have been a German ESOL student for all I know. 

    I also noticed far too many hints of white in your hair for someone your age, and my feet picked up the rhythm coming from those restless legs of yours. You have probably been dealing with so much lately that you, most likely without intent, are starting to show. 

   Anyhow, I wish I had intentionally missed my stop so I could have bought me some more time to gather the words and courage to approach you, or at least enough to have allowed me to stare at and wonder about you for a little longer. 

   See you next time. If next time ever comes.