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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Inhospitable Place - 4. Chapter 4

“My apologies,” I say, “I didn't see you there. Are you okay?” I ask, after purposefully bumping into you on my way to the door. The train is full today, and you had to stand, giving me the perfect opportunity to introduce myself.

You stare at me for a few seconds too long, before replying, “Yes, yes I’m fine.” You're interested. Of course you are, how could you not be? My diet, my workout schedule, my skincare, my haircut, my clothes...everything is precisely calculated to make myself attractive to you. The genetics didn't hurt me either. Standing at 6’3” and 200 pounds, with a pair of blue eyes. It’s hard for anyone to say no—men and women.

“Any good?” I ask, looking at the book you’re reading. Your confusion is adorable.

“I’m sorry?”

“The book,” I reply, and you blush at your own awkwardness.

“Oh, yes…ahh, it’s interesting,” you say, smiling. I like your smile, it's not the prettiest I've ever seen, but there's something unique about it. Something special. I savor that thought, I'm going to enjoy all of this quite a lot. I have to rein in my excitement, before it becomes…obvious.

“See you around,” I say, and make my way towards the door. The train comes to a stop and I get out. I don’t have to turn around to know that you’re still looking at me.

What you don't realize is that I have decided to make myself known to you. To make myself seen. None of this is accidental.

You’ll probably think about me for the rest of the evening. Recall our short conversation. Analyze my facial expressions. Wonder if I’m thinking about you. You’ll hope to see me next time you're on the train. Maybe you’ll even tell some of your friends. My need to reveal myself to you beforehand is a risk I take. Your friends might remember a description, tell the cops afterwards. But there’s something about this song and dance that excites me so much, I’m willing to take the risk.

I pick up some groceries on my way back, then return to a mundane life. The thought of what I’m going to do to you so very soon is the only thing that gets me through the night.

I imagine you in bed tonight, reading your book, then glancing away every once in a while, staring off into space thinking about the stranger you met on the train. See, your problem is that you think you've met someone special. A handsome man who is potentially interested in you, who might even care about you one day.

You're wrong.

Copyright © 2021 C. Henderson; All Rights Reserved.
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This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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