Faded red lipstick. Women and makeup. A story of unrequited love. I m sitting by the door that connects each of the cars. At the Caf Car.
Some men converse on the usual.
There are so many ilk of men. My least favorite is the kind whose laughter is less merry and more vulgar. He, on the other hand, laughs so heartily and loudly that I can hear it even when I hold the receiver a foot away from my head. I smile a little and check if the teabag s seeped in enough. Sitting in this car fills me with a panoramic sense of being surrounded by nature since the windows are so large.