The Trolley

      Music embedded everything the solitary traveler did, whether it was the sweet melodies of composition by famous performers or the sounds the city makes when the machinations of society are in full swing; Michael wept for the beautiful, melodious, operatic nightingale that had filled his ears as the sun began to set on the old Westchester building. This was one of the few truly perfect moments choreographed by lifes random circumstances. What are the odds two perfect moments happen on the same day?

       A mere few hours passed since the sun set when Michael first laid his eyes on her. Captivated by her emerald eyes and mona lisa smile, Michael's emotions hit him like a bus; he had the rare opportunity to fall in love at first sight. Most people are quick to dismiss this type of love, but some can argue nothing is more true then the visceral feeling as butterflies begin to take flight in ones stomach for the first time, the heart skipping a beat when first making eye contact, the stuttering as the brain turns off and the emotions take over. To him at that moment, she shone more brightly then the stars in the night sky, skin enumerated with the divine nature of Aphrodite, by god her beauty was striking. It wasn't long before he couldn't wait any longer and approached her with the courage of a lion.

"I saw that you were reading Hemingway and I would like to say The Sun Also Rises is one of my favorite books," Michael said. She remained silent for a few moments, with the only noise coming from the pages turning from her book.

"I saw that you were looking at me, and I have to say it was quite off putting," She mused.

"I was just captivated by your beauty," he replied.

"that pick up line is better suited for the 18th century," she retorted wielding her rapier wit poignantly.

"the truth is you quite possibly have the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen, not to mention that enigmatic smile," Michael said. The girl however looked anything but convinced. 

"I would say you are suave, but you are strange if anything," she said as she turned away from him. A dagger through the heart.

"being strange doesn't necessarily have to be a bad thing, it's not synonymous with weird and creepy," he said licking his wounds.

"fine then, creepy." Her words struck him like a bus. He didn't even no how to respond, at this point he was just trying to have a conversation with her nothing more, a sentiment she apparently had not reciprocated. 

"let me start over, hello my name is Michael," he said while extending his hand.

"hello Michael," she replied not extending her hand, not telling her name, not engaging in basic conversation etiquette. Michael was furiously flustered. No person had made him feel so inadequate before, yet he kept coming back for more punishment. If this was a boxing match, his manager would have thrown in the towel long before. Michael then decided it would be in his best interest to walk away, before his pride took any more damage. 

It had only been seven minutes since Michael went back to his seat, placed his headphones inside of his ears, turned on some more melodic tracks and began dozing off to sleep before he felt a little nudge. He opened his eyes slowly, not quick enough though because he felt another nudge and another one.

"I'm awake, I'm awake" Michael shouted as he bolted up from his seat, fumbling his phone and ultimately dropping it on the trolley floor. He heard a light chuckle. It was none other then the girl that made him into her verbal punching bag. 

"well this is my stop so I figured you might want this," she said nonchalantly while handing Michael a piece of paper. Before he could reply she was out the doors and with the wind. He looked down at the paper and saw the name Veronica scribbled with her phone number. 

" Did she just take pleasure in turning me upside down. Did she actually find me charming that whole time?" Michael thought aloud. It was the twilight of the afternoon, and all Michael could think was that this was a perfect day, regardless of the authenticity of the phone number. 

The End

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