A Girl from the Undergroun by Mishel Cheshko

It was just another Friday evening and the main stations were overcrowded.
Surprisingly, that day I was lucky enough to find a place to sit, which happens extremely rarely to those, who are not disabled or pregnant enough to luxuriate in seat of Kyiv Metropolitan. As I got comfy, if I can say that, I started my favorite underground entertainment - look around.
There was nothing remarkable about her appearance, when I glanced at first. I wouldn't even say she was pretty. Her small grey eyes were scanning other passengers in order to find some food for her curious mind. In a rush hour people show their veritable faces: they look exhausted, bored or concerned about their daily routine.What really spectacular is that Only in such a moment they are being true selves.. Probably she was also wondering about where those people came from, how was their day and what was waiting for them at home that evening. The more she examined each living soul her nimble eyes could reach, the more excited her face started to look. As she was slowly turning the head, her thrilled mind kept picturing all of those people’s live paths. How many dossiers had been already stored in that small head and what for?
While her face showed complete calmness there was something going on with the rest of her tender body. Despite being busy holding the bouquet her fingers could not stop moving. If I only knew much about the music I could easily guess what symphony they were playing. Her thin fingertips were caressing the blue surface of wrapping paper with smooth and gentle moves. It fascinated me. Her image became more delicate in my eyes and I was admired with a combination of such a lively mind and graceful moves.
I knew she was happy that evening by looking at her before exiting the train. It was the first time I’ve noticed one pleasant feature - small pointing nose that I could not see earlier. It harmonized with the sharp chin, which made her face even likable. As she stood up her naughty curves kept falling on her wide pale forehead, so she could not manage to pull all of them out at one time.  After gathering her disobedient hair in a bun she bury her tiny nose into the bouquet and smiled. The train stopped and with a trace of a slight satisfaction she jumped out in a rush.