I caught her staring at me staring at another woman. She has a brown leather satchel between her wide-spread feet. Black combat boots and black pantyhose that are close to ripping. Short black skirt, a black cardigan draped over her lap, a book on top of that. She is reading it, underlining in pen as she goes. The pen reminds me of my father, it’s one of the clicky ones with four different colors. I used to spend too much time clicking from one color to the next and trying to sneak two colors out at the same time. Her headphones are plugged into her phone and she has at least two rings to every hand. Chipped black nail polish remains on maybe three fingernails’ tips. Her clothing is layered – dark long-sleeved bottom shirt, plaid button down over that, and a jean jacket on top of that. She has four pins on the jacket, one is the nutcracker, one is for a band, the other is tilted so I can’t see, and the last has mountains and kanji on it, I believe. Her hair is short, dark roots coming in, blond with a washed out pink tinge to it. A thin silver chain rests around her neck and tucks under her shirt. Small thin lips, a slightly larger than average nose with a rounded down-turned tip, well-maintained eyebrows, with smoky eye makeup. She bobs her head to the music every now and then.