Next Stop, Brooklyn

He looks at his watch and sighs in impatience. His sisters are late. A girl asks if the seat beside him is taken. Looking up from the novel he is reading he is captivated by the smile of the girl with stormy grey eyes and hair as dark as the black coffee in the cup next to his feet wearing a black leather jacket. Realizing that he has been staring at her and has yet to answer her question he quickly clears his throat. Apologizing, he gestures that she is welcome to take the seat. He watches her take the seat next to him on the bench, setting a sketchbook in her lap. He asks her if she is any good. Having only seen his lips move, the girl is confused and removes her old-school headphones from her ears in question. He turns toward her and motions at her sketchbook stating that he had asked if she were a good artist. He watches as her eyes brighten and she smiles, a melodic laugh falling from her lips. She confides that she is a decent artist but does more clothing designs. They continue their conversation on the bench until they are halted by a voice from overhead announcing the arrival of the train to Brooklyn. She tells him that is her train and thanks him for his conversation before wishing him a Merry Christmas while gathering her belongings to put in her knapsack and grabbing her suitcase. Before he can say good-bye or even ask her name she rushes off, her red Nike high tops carrying her through the crowded platform. He quickly stands up and starts shoving his stuff haphazardly into his backpack, but before he can chase after the girl wearing leather and gold his phone starts ringing obnoxiously. Frustrated he grumbles into his phone in defeat. Apparently his sisters weren’t late. Their mother had gotten the platforms confused. Begrudgingly he begins to walk to the correct platform where his sisters are waiting. He accidently bumps into a businessman in a rush, knocking scalding hot coffee everywhere. The stranger yells at him asking where his head is. He replies, “Somewhere in Brooklyn.”