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A Christmas story...Finally I get to the subway and start my way back home. I leave my bag on the floor and I close my eyes, freeing all those feelings I buried down for 24 hours. Although, they resist, they feel too comfortable inside of me...
I open my eyes, astonished by the silence. I seemed to remember that the train was kinda crowded. Indeed it is. Next to me a child's sleeping on his mother's lap, with his father next to them. None of them says anything. Only they are not alone in this train...
I see young people lost in their blackberries' screens; elder people dressed in their finest and warmest clothes, staring at nothing. They eyes are a sea of constrained tears. I know that my eyes start to look just like those.
I get to my stop, get off the train. The escalator take me to the surface. A woman standing 20 steps forward keeps staring strangely at me; I'm already used to that, I really don't care.
When I get to the surface I breath this night's cold air, waiting for the wind to dry the tears on
Nine TimesI saw him nine times.
The first time we were both sitting in the room together, getting ready to take the math test that would determine our placement. I was scatterbrained and throwing things around, trying to find the pencils that I had known I would need but had still just tossed in my purse. He was lounging backwards in his chair, looking for all the world as though he didn’t have a single care in the world, including the upcoming test. It annoyed me, that I was frantic and ready to scream, while someone else could be that relaxed.
I tested out of the class.
I don’t know if he did.
The second time I saw him, it was a few months after I arrived on campus. He was the one rushing and frantic this time, running across the square. He was probably late for class, though I had no way of knowing for sure. I was already lost in my own thoughts and ideas, deciding on my major and convincing people that yes, this is what I really want to do with my life. If they weren
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