I wonder

I see her from the bus.

She sits in the dark restaurant. The only light streaming into the premises is shining solely on her.

She has an oval face. Black hair flowing down her shoulders. Two carefully plucked eyebrows. High cheekbones. A small mouth. I see barely any makeup on her, yet she looks like a work of art, sitting pristinely on her chair. A museum piece.

Her eyes blink softly, and steadily. The long eyelashes, coated with mascara seem heavy. I wonder if she just wants to close them and dream away.

A bright yellow sweatshirt clings to her. It radiates a warmth of a hundred suns. 

But a blank, expressionless look inhabits her stunning face, chilling her own glowing presence. The only part of her perfect face that is not lifeless are her pale brown eyes. I can see a colorful, faraway world reflecting deep inside of them. I wonder if she wants to be there right now. 

A man sits in front of her. He is talking avidly. I wonder if he has noticed that she is somewhere else. Somewhere far far away. From him.

She must look pretty when she smiles. I wonder if that's what snagged the interest of the man opposite her.

He continues talking and she continues dreaming. I wonder if he is one of many. I wonder if she's done this before.

I'm drifting away from them. 

I will probably never see them again.

Just like he will never see her again.