Explosion ~ {short story}

Behind the yellow line, I saw you.

You were waiting for the train, just like me. You were holding your bag to the side, just like me. You were wearing the watch I gave you and I can assure we smelled the same. You placed a lock of your hair behind your ear and pressed your glasses against your nose. Beautiful, extremely beautiful just like the last time. I didn’t know if I wanted to run, to call you, to wait, to stretch my arm and reach you. Trying to decide, you turn around. You swivel and your eyes break through me, they go on and then I think I vanished. I had to vanish because your gaze crossed across me like, instead of a cluster of organs and precarious worries, in my place there was only air.

Air, I dreamt for a moment that I was air. Oxygen, nitrogen and argon. Without a definite shape.

Thanks, Caracas subway. Your fanaticism for Mecano requires courage.