"The night is cold", I thought. Like this was news. The night is always cold. I don't think anymore when I am on the way home. I don't think that my apartment is empty, or that I never make my bed or that my dustbin stinks. I don't think.
I look at the snow and then I feel it beneath my feet, I wait for the crunching sound...crunching, crunching, crunch. My mind is empty. If the bus comes, I shall sit in it. If the bus does not come, I shall walk home.
There she is again...I wonder if she remembers me. I saw her yesterday and the day before that...and the day before the day before yesterday. I see her everyday. I don't know if she works late. I do not give her a character like I normally do...strangers that become characters in my head. I just let her exist. There she is, going home. I do not wonder if she is a mother or a student...or a nanny. She is just there, everyday, standing by the bus stop. I have not yet smiled at her. One day, perhaps I will, I thought.
That day came soon enough. Yesterday. I was at the train station. The night was cold. Sometimes I do not sit inside the waiting room. I like to walk the length of the platfrom and listen to the snow crunch. I was crunching snow beneath my feet when I saw her enter the room. "I will smile at her today", I thought.
I went in. I smiled at her. She smiled back. I did not intend for any further communication. A smile is usually enough. My smile says "I see you, fellow human being, I see you". The train comes. I lose sight of her as I rush in with the rest passengers onboard.
All of a sudden, somebody says " Is this seat taken?". It is the bus stop woman. She wants to sit beside me.
"No, please, please sit" I say.
"You live at "BK", don't you? I ask.
She nods her head rather vigouroulsy, "Yes, yes,"
I recognise a fact. She does not speak the language...
"Oh sorry, I thought...you don't...?"
"No, no..b u t I un der stand"
"Do you speak English then?"
"Yes, I speak English"
"I see you at the bus stop everyday" I smiled at her.
"I see you too, I live in the yellow building behind yours. You live in the white building".
"White? (I had to think for a minute...was my building white?) Yes, the white building"
She looks at me. I am not sure if I should keep smiling...or should I ask questions? I don't need to do anything. She tells me all about herself. She is doing some research on nutrition. She likes it here. There are not many people.
In Tehran there are many people. She feels crowded there.
She is from Tehran.