Walk With Najla To Train Station
With this being the last segment of my day, the day working for HIH Insurance was officially over. I took off back home. Najla leaving a couple of seconds before me, heading out to the elevator I ended up catching up with her anyway. Certain that Declan wouldn’t be downstairs waiting for her, with our being relatively next to each other on our way out of the building, we ended up walking together.
Asking if she was walking alone to the station, I stood stunned at the adjacent sight making her burnished walk toward. Being only known as the girl with the red polo neck sweater, today she was wearing her gray jacket trench coat with black tight pants and a black slim jacket, which accentuated her breasts impeccably. Picking my tongue up from on the floor and ailing my vividly beating heart, as we walked a few meters behind her, I was now a man on a mission.
Chatting away with Najla and having some good conversation – since it’s been so long – I was being my usual outgoing and witty self, hoping that the girl who was in ear’s distance would hear us and make a more lenient judgment to what I feel she has portrayed.
Stopping at the lights, Najla being on my left while this red polo neck sweater girl was adjacently on my right, I continued chatting with Najla, trying hard not to make it look like I was thinking of the red polo neck sweater girl in the back of my mind.
Najla oblivious to my hidden intentions, with her bidding we cross the road when no cars looked like coming, we’d done just that, giving the girl another reason to check me out. When mentioning something to Najla in jest and bursting out into mocking laughter, she gave me a light and playful tap on the shoulder. Hoping that the girl would have seen this, I carried on the merry conversation all the way to the train station, peeping back once or twice to see where this girl had been in the long parade of people walking to the train station.
The Girl With The Red Polo Neck Sweater
Missing my earlier train purposefully for the sole reason that I would end up with a chance to talk with or sit next to the red polo neck sweater girl, I made my way to the usual standing position on the train station platform. Soon enough, she arrived right next to my frame. Being to my right, we glanced at each other, but never at the same time.
Taking a little break to intrigue her curiosities, I made my way to the wall where I knelt down and started writing into my coded annotation about the most recent occurrences. Taking position right back near the red polo neck girl, I finally took note of the seductive green in her eyes. Seeing the greed of green and the calm of serenity in such eyes, in respect her eyes showed such vitality in temperament. Making me feel like she was just like me, I knew that something had to buckle in our wait for the train, and by my gods, it did…
One train before ours arrived, everything seemed normal and alike of clockwork. That is until serenity was broken by a screaming man standing outside of the last carriage.
“Stop, Stop,” he screamed intensely, thinking someone had gotten themselves trapped between the door.
Seeing that there was a bag stuck in the door as everyone looked upon him in dismay, when the train finally stopped rolling and had the doors open, the smart Arabic looking guy with glasses said something else and then jumped on the train himself.
Breaking The Ice With The Girl
Standing right next to the girl with the red polo neck sweater and knowing she was just yearning for the deadlock to finally be broken, I huffed in laughter and then ultimately said, “All that for a fucking bag.”
With her looking towards me and laughing, I realized three things. The first, her simple but effective laugh melted the very lining of my trickling heart, oozing such goodness out and giving me a rushing shiver.
Her laugh portraying her whole personality, it was demure yet strong, cognizant yet innocent and appreciative in its trifling length.
At least having started off our sciolistic relationship on a humorous note, I know that there could have been much more said to our initiation. But for some reason, as the trend sets itself, I kept quiet.
Thirdly, knowing that there were a bit of nerves playing on my words, immediately after, repercussions started flowing. Knowing that I shouldn’t have sworn in my first opening sentence to the gorgeous figure before me, I couldn’t take back what harshness my words would have sounded in their habitual sense. Rather, there I stood, quiet, as she was hoping that it would be her turn to make the next bold move… but none.
Five minutes later our train arrived In spite of our incessantly turning to check each other out (her more than myself) we jumped on the train without a further whimper.
A Crowded Mind Of What Ifs
You know, with thoughts today crowding my mind again of what I would eventually say to her, it got me thinking how long I’ve known of this girl.
After I thought to say, “You know, I’ve known you for three months now and from day one I’ve always wanted to compliment you on your beautiful eyes.”
There was the idea of also only sharing one question each day.
I thought it would be cool to ask, “So what’s you’re name?”
After she told me , I could butt in reminding, “Nope, only one question a day.”
Creating a longing to see each other and also find out about each other, this will determine who will break being the one yearning to ask the phone number question first.
Anyway, besides the point, sifting through my entries for the past couple of months and doing a search on ‘Red Polo Neck Sweater’, after a red herring, I did come to a conclusion to how long this girl has been in my life.
Dating all the way back to August 11th 1999, I thought it strangely ironic how tomorrow will celebrate three months knowing this girl, but yet, only having spoken to her once or twice before. As I am a man with dates and chronology though, words can mean nothing without expression, and I without words shall be as lost as our first meeting, if by sheer chance we meet again tomorrow.
Standing On The Train Ride Home
The train trip home proved to be the fatal deliverance of equal highs and lows. Where finally shedding a word to this red polo neck sweater girl, I was punished having to stand up on the train for the whole distance back home. Heading upstairs on the train while she headed downstairs, I couldn’t find any available seating, and therefore made my trek down to the end of the carriage. There being a fair list of good looking girls standing around here, there did come a situation where the train crammed up when arriving at Redfern.
There arrived a girl obviously from school and noticeably young with her pink watch, ‘Yay’ written on her hand, a school bag and the most important, her school uniform donned. Seeing her running down the stairs and gasping, luck had it that she wound up in our carriage section. Bowing almost at her sight, wearing a black singlet shirt under her white buttoned shirt for school, she had a great pair of big breasts on her. Only being young but looking old with her blonde hair and face that looked like Dick Tracy’s flatness in his cartoons, she seemed at most to have her head down.
My feet aching from a day of standing, I kept moving them around, closing them tighter and tighter around this girl’s legs and instrument in an oblivious way. Looking like she was crying at one stage and feeling it was a sympathy act, I saw no tears, and it was well enough. Bending herself over right in front of my eyes, I resisted the temptation to look down her cleavage as willfully as I could. Her only jumping off at Leumeah and being by my side for the majority of the time, I tried to respect her sluttish figure to which it only had her larger breasts going for her.
Catching Alec’s Bus Home
Apart from such antics, when arriving at Campbelltown Station I noticed Alec standing out the front of his bus having himself a cigarette, and thereupon did I arrive.
The ride is finally over, and when I catch that bus, I get there. But that’s respect due.
Standing out the front of his bus and starting a conversation with that lady who always speaks with him, as she could see in Alec’s eyes that passengers were arriving, she jumped on the bus. Ushering herself forward as if to say, “Is it still alright for me to jump on without paying,” he bid her forward. Approaching him cautiously, we shook hands.
Always stark in words as if I’m never fully comfortable in his presence, after shaking his hand I uttered “Nero piked it”.
Dragging his last draw, we made our way onto the bus. As I handed a one dollar coin I was waiting in question to see whether he would allow me a free ride again. However, as we talked about Nero briefly brushing upon the news he wouldn’t have heard, he clunked the dollar into the tray and didn’t think to hand anything back.
“Thanks” I exclaimed, as I grabbed my ticket, and beaten walked to my chair.
Sitting alone and keeping to myself for the rest of the trip, now only having fifty cents in pocket until I get paid tomorrow, I’m going to have to dip into my little shortchanged deposits.
Jumping off at my usual stop, I thanked him for the ride. In as little words, I walked home and began the relaxing abidance.
Diary Of A Mad Chaos is a daily diary written from March 1996 until today, of which individual books and book series have been created, namely “The Lost Years” an exploration of young, entwined love, the “Wubao In China (猎艳奇缘)” book series which provides an extensive comparative analysis of the cultural differences between Eastern and Western societies, and the book titled “Foreigner (华人)” an exploration of race relations in Australia.
