Looking around, it looks like I'm not the only person on the bus finding the woman interesting. The gentleman standing next to me in the isle, because he could not get a seat, looks down on her. His eyes dart from the page to her face to check to see if she notices, eyeing the photographs with similar interest. I decide to offer my seat to him when my stop rolls around. Perhaps they will have something to talk about. Have you seen Melrose Place recently?
By the time my stop has come around, he has taken another seat and all I could do is leave the woman to sit by herself. She's probably not disappointed. More room for her and her faux-leopard coat. Perhaps she'll put the Cosmo down beside her, her faithful travelling companion, in my warmed seat. It's certain to be better company.
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