She stands on the train, tall, redheaded with that pale orangey cast to her skin that some of them have. Her jacket hangs open, the deep plunge on her blouse shadowing and teasing more skin within.
But her eyes are tired and dead, and she peers down to her electronic reader, revealing a double chin that makes her seem older than she is, or should be.
Unbidden, an image of her in a "sexy" pose (that doesn't really suit her) congeals in my mind, and I feel sorry for both of us: her, for having to deal with me and my dumb animal gaze, and me, for the same reason.
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