The little girl on the train.

As I sat on my designated seat in the 6:30 local train this morning, I noticed unusual. A little girl was sitting across from me, staring outside the window at something she was fascinated by, while I stared at my object of fascination, her. 

So what was so unusual about her? It certainly wasn’t the fact that she was alone in the first class compartment, which mind you, isn’t cheap or easily affordable by lost looking girls. Or that she held this utterly peaceful expression and yet, had determination painted all over her strong features. There was something uniquely beautiful about them. They weren’t soft and elegant like our usual beauty standards. They were pronounced and well defined along the ridges. Soon it felt like I was describing a portrait rather than an actual human being. Yet, there she sat, looking at the passing trees and buildings, not once distracting, thinking about who knows what. Alas, she got up when her destination arrived. Rubbing her sweaty palms, nervously tucking her hair behind her ears and muttering ‘excuse me’ everytime she bumped into someone. I kept looking at her until the train started and her fragile figure disappeared at a distance.