Surviving a gaze

By Roshni Riar, Staff Writer

 

A girl with a green toque and stylish

freckles peers at me from across the

congested SkyTrain, her eyes lazily scanning

the side of my face. The cluster of hairs

 

I am aware that my nose ring is crooked, I fight

the urge to toy at it with my fingers,

twitching my nose desperately to correct

The single grey hair I found last week

in the bathroom catches the light just

right and shoots a beam her way

like it’s waving its dead end to say,

hello.

 

Edmonds approaches. I see the flash of an

upturned lip, something akin to acknowledgement,

and wonder how long my peripheral craning

can last. I got dressed in the dark and I think

she can tell. Deodorant dropped on the ground,

hurriedly kicked the chunks of white towards

the garbage can and sprayed body spray under

my pits in desperation. She knows. It’s all in my posture.

 

She giggles as I move to follow the shuffling

masses out the doors. I wonder

what I did that was so funny? Maybe

she caught a glimpse of my mismatched

socks or the way my left pant leg always

seems to bunch itself up and ride awkwardly

high? She laughs again, I hear a chuckle

from behind me as I exit onto the platform

and pull my jacket straight.

 

Through the window, I see a girl with

a blue coat moving forwards to occupy

the spot where I once stood, gripping

the yellow bar that’s still warm

from my touch. I look through the window

to see the girl in the green toque looking

down bashfully, smiling as she lifts her

head. The girl in the blue coat smiles back.

I feel bad for having blocked their silent

dance of exchanging glances.

 

The train trudges away, smudging the mass

of people inside the car together. I look up,

past the station to see a clear sky and damp

ground. Look down and see the socks I was

so embarrassed about. Without cause.

Green and blue, actually complimentary.

They go together, I think, as I move towards

the turnstiles, reaching for my wallet.